GJFT  OF 


:^ 


THE 


PRINCIPLES 


OF 


METAPHYSICAL  AND  ETHICAL  SCIENCE 


APPLIED    TO    THE 


EVIDENCES  OF  RELIGION. 


A     NEW     EDITION, 
BEVI8ED    AND     ANNOTATED,     FOR    THE     USE    OF    COLLEGES. 


By   FRANCIS   BOWEN,  A.m. 

AUOED    PEOFESSOR    OP    NATURAL    RELIGION,   MORAL    PHILOSOPHT,    AND    CiyiL    POUTT    CI 

HARVARD    COLLEGE. 


BOSTON: 
BRE^VER     AND     TILESTON. 

CLEVELAND:  INGHAIT  AND  BRAGG. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856,  by 

FRANCIS    BO  WEN, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


•  OA  MBBIDO £   : 

ALLEN    AND    FAENHAM,    STEREOTTPERS    AND    PRINTERa. 


PREFACE. 


The  substance  of  this  work  was  delivered  in  two 
courses  of  lectures  before  the  Lowell  Institute  in  Bos- 
ton, in  the  winters  of  1848-9.  These  lectures  were 
afterwards  published,  but  the  edition  of  them  is  now 
exhausted.  Having  had  occasion  to  use  the  work  as  a 
text-book,  of  instruction,  for  the  students  of  Harvard 
College,  in  the  leading  doctrines  of  Metaphysical  and 
Ethical  Philosophy,  considered  as  bearing  upon  the 
Evidences  of  Religion,  I  have  endeavored  to  recast  the 
materials  in  this  edition,  so  as  to  render  it  more  avail- 
able for  such  a  purpose.  A  few  abridgments  have  made 
room  for  considerable  additions,  mostly  in  the  form  of 
notes,  which  are  principally  designed  to  elucidate  and 
criticize  at  greater  length  those  doctrines  and  theories 
on  philosophy  and  science  which  were  but  briefly  noticed 
in  the  lectures.  In  its  present  form,  the  work  is  de- 
signed to  be  a  compend  of  the  principles  of  Ethics 
and  Metaphysics,  so  far  as  these  aflect.  the  foundations 
of  our  religious  belief.  Some  of  the  notes  are  merely 
explanatory,  while  others  are  intended,  by  citations  from 
different  writers,  to  support  the  positions  maintained  in 
the  text,  I  have  made  free  use,  for  this  purpose,  of  the 
writings  of  Isaac  Taylor,  John  S.  Mill,  Dr.  Whewell, 
and  Sir  William  Hamilton.  In  its  present  form,  the 
work  may  be  regarded  as  an  imperfect  supplement  to  the 
invaluable  treatises  of  Dr.  Butler  and  Dr.  Paley,  the 
principal  object  being  to  consider  those  objections  and 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  the  believer  which  are  of  recent 
origin,  or  have  grown   out   of  recent  discoveries   aud 

284307  '"" 


IV  PREFACE. 

speculations  in  science  and  philosophy,  as  well  as  the 
important  additions  to  the  Evidences  of  Religion  which 
have  been  derived  from  the  same  source. 

In  the  Preface  to  the  first  edition,  it  was  remarked, 
that  though  so  many  volumes  have  been  written  upon 
the  Evidences  of  Religion,  it  does  not  appear  that  the 
subject  is  exhausted,  or  that  the  productions  of  a  former 
age  are,  in  every  respect,  suited  to  the  exigencies  of  our 
own  times.  There  are  peculiar  forms  or  infidelity^  or 
peculiar  causes  of  latitudinarian  opinions  in  religion, 
which  are  more  prevalent  in  one  age  than  another.  I 
have  endeavored  in  this  work  to  meet  those  objections 
and  difficulties  which  are  most  current  in  our  own  day ; 
to  meet  them  Avith  that  course  of  argument  and  illus- 
tration which  has  seemed  most  satisfactory  to  my  own 
mind,  and  without  fear  of  incurring  the  charge  of  a 
want  of  originality  on  the  one  hand,  or  of  a  fondness  for 
novel  and  abstruse  speculations  on  the  other.  I  have 
-^,-not  been  afraid,  either  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of 
others,  if  their  arguments  happened  to  be  best  adapted 
to  my  purpose,  or  to  strike  off  into  a  new  path,  if  1 
might  thereby  more  surely  and  safely  attain  the  great 
object  in  view.  rThose  who  find  little  that  is  new  in 
this  book,  may  bfe  assured  that  it  was  not  written  for 
them,  but  for  a  class  of  readers  who  are  less  adequately 
informed  upon  the  subject.  Those  who  dislike  abstract 
speculations,  may  pass  it  ^over  for  a  similar  reason ;  if 
they  have  never  been  entangled  in  a  web  of  metaphysi- 
cal subtilties,  a  clew  to  the  labyrinth  will  be  of  no  ser- 
vice to  them. 

Some  repetitions  may  be  found  in  these  pages,  as  I 
have  been  more  willing  to  incur  the  charge  of  prolixity 
and  a  frequent  recurrence  to  the  same  line  of  remark 
and  argument,  than  of  obscurity  or  an  affected  abstruse- 
ness.  The  nature  of  the  objections  considered  has  un- 
avoidably led  me  into  some  of  the  dark  corners  of 
speculation ;  but  I  have  honestly  tried  to  dissipate 
rather  than  increase  the  obscurity,  and  for  this  purpose, 
have  often  held  up  the  same  subject  in  many  differeni 
lights,  and  looked  at  it  from  various  points  of  view. 
Though   the  recapitulation,  at   the   beginning   of  one 


PREFACE.  V 

chapter,  of  the  argument  in  the  preceding  one,  is  not  so 
useful  for  the  reader  as  the  hearer,  I  have  allowed  it  to 
remain  as  it  was  written,  because,  when  an  argument 
has  been  once  explained  at  length  and  with  some  mi- 
nuteness, a  brief  summary  of  it  often  makes  the  connec- 
tion of  its  parts  more  obvious,  and  the  reasoning  itself 
more  clear  and  convincing. 

In  alluding  to  some  of  the  novel  opinions  and  theo- 
ries in  science  and  philosophy,  which  have  gained  a 
little  popularity  of  late  both  in  England  and  America, 
ihough  their  place  of  origin  must  be  sought  elsewhere, 
it  has  not  been  my  wish  to  provoke  controversy.  Opin- 
ions may  be  freely  discussed  without  causing  offence ; 
I  have  never  referred  to  the  individuals  or  sects  who  en- 
tertain and  defend  them.  Some  of  these  opinions,  I  am 
well  aware,  ai:e  held  by  many  persons  who  unite  with 
them  a  lively  and  steadfast  faith,  a  devotional  spirit,  and 
a  religious  life ;  but  they  have  been  stumbling-blocks  to 
others,  for  whom  alone  I  have  endeavored  to  surmount  " 
or  remove  them.  Tlie  discussion  of  them  has  some- 
times led  me  further  into  the  territory  of  the  natural 
sciences  than  it  was  perhaps  prudent  for  one  to  venture 
who  has  only  a  general  acquaintance  with  these  sub- 
jects, and  has  never  made  them  objects  of  special  pur- 
suit. But  in  these  days,  when  knowledge  is  so  widely 
diffused  that  the  latest  theories  and  discoveries  in 
science  are  familiarly  discussed  in  the  newspapers,  the 
bearing  of  these  theories  upon  the  religiqus  belief  of  the 
multitude  cannot  be  safely  neglected.  -^  I  have  no  fears""" 
of  any  conflict  between  the  truths  of  rieal  science  and 
those  either  of  Natural  or  Revealed  Religion.  The 
voice  of  nature,  when  rightly  interpreted,  never  contra- 
dicts itself,  and  the  truth  that  is  fully  comprehended  is 
always  sufficient  for  its  own  defence.  But  when  sciol- 
ism is  almost  universal,  speculations  which  usurp  the 
name  and  garb  of  science  may  often  give  a  rude  shock 
to  the  convictions  of  a  large  class  who  are  not  well  in- 
structed enough  to  be  able  to  separate  hypotheses  from 
established  facts,  and  who  can  be  dazzled  by  the  fluent 
use  of  scientific  phraseology.  Such  speculations  are 
easily  exposed  in  their  true  character,  even  by  those 


Vi  PREFACE. 

whoso  studios  havo  not  gono  beyond  the  limit  which 
every  educated  person  at  the  present  day  is  supposed  to 
have  reached. 

The  business  of  a  writer  upon  the  Evidences  is  to 
reason,  and  not  to  preach.     I  have  endeavored  to  show, 
that  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  religion  rest  upon  the 
same  basis  which  support_s._all  science,  and  that  they 
cannot  be  denied  without  rejecting   also   the   familiar 
truths  which  we  adopt  almost  unconsciously,  and  upon 
which  we  depend  for  the  conduct  of  life  and  the  regula- 
tion of  our  ordinary  concerns.     The  application  of  these 
doctrines  to  the  heart  and  the  life,  is  the  business  of  the 
professed  teachers  of  Christianity,  into  whose  province 
\  have  not  felt  competent  to  intrude.     Some  may  think 
that  I  have  been  too  cautious  in  this  respect,  and  have 
placed  too  little  stress  upon  sentiment,  and  too  much 
upon  argument,  as  if  religion  were  less  an  affair  of  the 
heart  than  of  the  intellect.     To  this  objection  it  may  be 
answered,  that  belief  is  one  thing,  and  the  regulation  of 
conduct  according  to  that  belief  is  another.     A  cold  and 
passive   assent  to  the  doctrines  of  Christianity,  is  not 
enough  to  constitute  a  religious  life ;  but  no  one  will 
maintain,  that  a   Christian   life  is  compatible  with  a 
denial  of  those  doctrines,  or  with  indifference  upon  the 
question  whether  they  are  true  or  false.     Emotion  which 
is  not  directed  towards  any  object,  nor  excited  by  the 
contemplation  of  any  truth,  may  spring  from  a  source  as 
low  as  mere  physical  stimulus :  it  is  then  animal  rather 
than  spiritual  in  its  nature.     Religious  emotions  must 
rest  upon  religious  ideas  and  convictions,  or  they  will 
be  as  transitory  as  they  are  vehement.     The  heart  and 
the  intellect  must  move   together  and  in  concert,  for 
nothing  can  be  more  barren  than  their  separate  action, 
or  more  pitiable  than  a  conflict  between  them.     If  there 
are   any  whose   enjoyment  of   spiritual    truth  is   never 
darkened  or  perplexed  by  doubts  and  questionings,  they 
are  those  who  have  first  acquired  clear  and  distinct  con- 
ceptions of  what  that  truth  is,  and  have  then  satisfied 
themselves,  by  study  and  experience,  that  it  is  founded 
upon  a  rock.     It  is  doing  no  honor  to  our  religious  faith 
to  place  it  upon  the  footing  of  a  necessary  prejudice. 


PREFACE.  VU 

But  as  this  subject  is  considered  at  length  in  some  of 
the  following  chapters,  there  is  no  occasion  to  pursue  it 
here.  I  wished  only  to  express  my  earnest  dissent  from ; 
the  doctrine  which  is  now  not  infrequently  avowed,  even^' 
from  the  pulpit,  that  any  study  of  the  Evidences  of  Re-  , 
iigion  is  unprofitable  and  vain.  On  the  contrary,  I  be- 
lieve that  there  has  seldom  been  a  time  when  such  study 
has  been  more  necessary  than  it  is  at  the  present  day. 
Religious  fanaticism  has  given  way  to  religious  indiffer- 
ence ;  the  strife  of  sects  with  each  other  has  somewhat 
cooled,  but  the  strife  of  opinions  upon  all  the  great  sub- 
jects that  are  interesting  to  humanity  is  more  active 
and  universal  than  ever.  The  thirst  for  innovation  has 
greatly  increased,  and  all  restraint  upon  speculation  in 
science,  philosophy,  politics,  and  social  economy  is 
taken  away.  In  France  and  Germany,  at  this  hour, 
[1849,]  we  see  the  mournful  consequences  of  this  chaotic 
state~of  public  opinion,  this  upheaval  of  the  foundations 
of  belief  The  best  minds  of  the  former  country  are 
even  now  engaged  in  an  attempt  to  undo  their  own 
work,  and  to  resettle  the  belief  of  the  people  upon  those 
subjects  in  relation  to  which  they  had  formerly  conspired 
to  shake  it.  The  philosophical  party  in  the  French  In-y 
stitute,  after  being  at  open  war  with  the  clergy  for  a/ 
century,  are  now  zealously  cooperating  with  them  in  thei 
endeavor  to  teach  the  fundamental  truths  of  religion  to 
a  deluded  and  exasperated  people.  If  society  in  our 
own  country  is  not  to  experience  a  similar  crisis,  it  must 
be  through  the  efforts  of  the  educated  laity,  working  in 
concert  with  the  clergy,  to  erect  a  barrier  against  the 
licentious  and  infidel  speculations  which  are  pouring  in 
upon  us  from  Europe  like  a  flood.  The  time  seems  to 
have  arrived  for  a  more  practical  and  immediate  verifi- 
cation than  the  world  has  ever  yet  witnessed  of  the 
great  truth,  that  the  civilization  which  is  not  based  upon 
Christianity  is  big  with  the  elements  of  its  own  destruc- 
tion. 

Cambridge,  January  10,  1855. 


CONTENTS. 


#        FIRST     PART. 
CHAPTER   I. 

FAGB 

The  Distinction   between  Physical   and    Metaphysical 
Science 1 

CHAPTER    II. 
This  Distinction  applied  to  Philosophy  and  Theology         25 

CHAPTER    III. 
The  Idea  of  Self,  or  Personal  Existence  ...        48 

CHAPTER    IV. 
The  Idea  op  Cause,  and  the  Nature  op  Causation   .       .        71 

CHAPTER    V. 
Fatalism  and  Freewill 98 

CHAPTER    VI. 

The  Argument  for  Free  Agency  continued  :   Reasoning 

.     FROM  Effect  to  Cause 123 

(be) 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    VII 


All  Events  in   the  JVLvterial  Universe  a  Pkoof  of  the 
Presence  and  the  Agency  of  God 146 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

Inferences  from  the  General  Character  of  the  Phenom- 
ena OF  the  Physical  Universe 173 


CHAPTER    IX. 
The  Argument  from  Design #  .        .      198 


SECOND     PART. 

CHAPTER    I. 
The  Human  distinguished  from  the  Brute  Mind      .        .      223 

CHAPTER    II. 
The  Principles  of  Activity  in  Human  Nature  .        .      250 

CHAPTER    III. 
The  Nature  and  Functions  of  Conscience  ....      275 


296 


CHAPTER    IV. 
/    The  Nature  op  Moral  Government       .        ,       ,       , 

CHAPTER    V. 

The  Contents  of  the  Moral  Law  a  Revelation  of  the 
Character  of  the  Deity  :  the  Enforcement  of  the 
Moral  Law 321 


CONTENTS.  Xi 

CHAPTER    VI. ^ 
The  Goodness  or  God 345 

CHAPTER    VII. 
The  Origin  of  Evil 369 

CHAPTER    VIII. 
The  Unity  of  God 393 

CHAPTER    IX. 

The  Immortality  of  the  Soul  cannot  be  proved  without 
THE  AID  OF  Revelation    . 417 

CHAPTER    X. 
The  Relation  of  Natural  to  Revealed  Religion    .        .      442 

CHAPTER    XI. 
The  Nature  of  the  Evidences  of  a  Revealed  Religion  .      463 


FIRST     PAET. 


CHAPTER    I. 

XHE   DISTINCTI(5n    BETWEEN    PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL 

SCIENCE. 

Supposed  conflicting  claims  of  Philosophy  and  Religion. — 
According  to  a  common  opinion,  Philosophy  and  Theology  are 
sister  sciences,  so  closely  allied  that  it  is  often  difficult  to  make 
a  distinction  between  them.  Every  person  must  hold  some 
opinions  relative  to  each ;  and  these  opinions  form  two  mutually 
dependent  creeds,  which  may  be,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
peculiar  to  himself,  and  of  which  the  action  and  reaction  are  so 
nearly  equal,  that  it  is  often  difficult  to  determine  which  is  the 
parent  of  the  other.  Every  theory  respecting  the  origin  and 
first  principles  of  human  knowledge  must  bear  a  close  relation 
to  that  subject  in  regard  to  which  knowledge  is  of  the  highest 
value,  —  the  doctrine  of  God,  duty,  and  immortality.  The 
religion  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  so  far  as  it  existed  in  a 
definite  and  consistent  form,  —  that  is,  as  it  was  conceived  by 
enlightened  and  thinking  men  among  them,  —  was  wholly  drawn 
from  their  philosophical  tenets,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  it 
was  identical  with  those  tenets.  And  so  it  has  been  in  modern 
times.  Skepticism  in  philosophy  and  skepticism  in  religion,  if 
not  the  same  thing,  at  least  usually  go  together. 

1 


2  rn.YSICAL    AND   ItfETAtllYSICAL    SCIENCE. 

This,  I  say,  is  the  common  view  of  the  subject ;  and  we  might 
therefore  well  expect,  what  often  happens,  that  the  claims  of  the 
two  sciences,  so  called,  should  seriously  conflict.  Men  are 
drawn  different  ways  by  opposite  fears,  —  by  their  dread,  on  the 
one  hand,  of  an  irreligious  philosophy,  and  on  the  other,  of  an 
vnphilosophical  religion.  Loyalty  to  truth,  which  is  the  highest 
claim  that  can  be  made  upon  human  reason,  is  drawn  into  open 
hostility  with  our  sense  of  duty  to  God,  which  is  the  most  awful 
and  imperative  of  all  obligations.  The  course  of  the  student  of 
science,  the  honest  and  sincere  inquirer  after  knowledge,  often 
appears  adverse  or  injurious  to  the  feelings  or  the  faith  —  the 
prejudices,  if  you  like  —  of  the  religious  believer,  the  devout 
worshipper  of  an  Omnipotent  Father  and  Friend.  And  even 
where  direct  opposition  is  avoided,  a  disputed  claim  to  prece- 
dence is  set  up,  and  sometimes  brings  with  it  an  intolerable 
burden  of  anxiety  and  doubt.  On  the  one  handl,  it  is  maintained 
that  every  religious  creed  must  be  tried  at  the  bar  of  human 
science,  and  its  doctrines  accepted  or  rejected  according  to  their 
agreement  with  the  speculative  dogmas  which  the  unaided  reason 
has  evolved  as  the  limits  and  criteria  of  truth ;  on  the  other,  the 
sacredness  of  the  subject  is  unwarily  held  up  to  shield  theology 
from  all  investigation,  and,  not  infrequently,  discoveries  in  science^ 
and  theories  in  philosophy  are  denounced,  if  they  are  at  va- 
riance with  the  supposed  dictates  of  revelation..  If  metaphys- 
ics are  made  a  test  of  the  truth  of  Christianity,  it  seems  but 
equal  justice  to  make  Christianity  a  test  of  the  correctness  of 
metaphysics.  Sometimes  a  compromise  is  proposed,  which  is 
no  less  shocking  to  the  feelings  of  the  believer  than  a  contume- 
lious rejection  of  his  faith.  Philosophy  is  represented  as  can- 
did and  liberal ;  as  superseding  religion,  it  is  true,  in  the  minds 
of  the  cultivated  and  reflecting  classes,  but  continuing  to  respect 
it,  as  an  imperfect  likeness  of  itself,  in  the  bulk  of  mankind. 
According  to  this  theory,  there  are  many  stages  of  progress  for 
the  human  intellect,  and  men  pass  on  from  religion  to  philoso- 
phy, as  they  do  from  barbarism  to  civilization. 

Now,  before  conflicting  claims  like  these  can  be  reconciled,  it 
is  necessary  to  get  clearer  ideas  of  the  subjects  of  dispute,  to 


PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  3 

determine  their  respective  boundaries,  to  see  how  far,  if  at  all, 
they  encroach  upon  each  other,  and,  if  possible,  to  settle  the 
logic  of  the  inquiry.  Perhaps  it  will  be  found,  after  all,  that 
the  provinces  of  Philosophy  and  Theology  are  entirely  distinct, 
so  that  there  is  no  proper  interference,  and  no  cause  for  contro- 
versy between  them.  To  establish  this  point  is  the  object  of  the 
present  chapter.  We  must  begin  with  definitions,  and  if  these 
appear  somew^hat  abstruse  at  first,  I  hope  they  will  become 
clearer  as  we  go  on. 

Classification  of  the  objects  of  Knowledge.  —  The  simplest,  as 
well  as  the  most  comprehensive,  classification  of  all  objects  of 
knowledge,  is  that  which  separates  them  into  relations  of  ideas 
and  matters  of  fact.  I  borrow  the  language  of  him  who  was  at 
once  the  most  subtile  logician  and  the  most  consistent  skeptic 
of  modern  times  :  "All  the  objects  of  human  reason  or  in- 
quiry," says  Hume,  "  may  naturally  be  divided  into  two  kinds, 
to  w^it.  Relations  of  Ideas  and  Matters  of  Fact.''  This  coincides 
very  nearly  with  the  familiar  distinction  between  physics  and 
metaphysics,  except  that  the  meaning  of  the  latter  must  be  so 
far  extended  as  to  embrace  the  cognate  sciences  of  grammar, 
logic,  and  mathematics.  Stating  the  proposition  in  other  words, 
w^e  say  that  all  science  may  be  reduced  to  two  branches :  — 
1.  The  study  of  things  physical,  or  those  which  exist  distinct 
from  our  thoughts  ;  2.  The  study  of  things  metaphysical,  or 
those  which  do  not  exist  apart  from  our  thoughts. 

No  one  can  fail  to  see  an  essential  difference  between  a  fact 
and  an  abstraction,  or  a  pure  idea,  like  that  of  cause,  goodness, 
"power,  existence,  and  the  like.  The  former  is  an  object  of  sense, 
something  which  can  be  seen,  heard,  felt,  or  touched,  —  whether 
we  have  had  sensible  evidence  of  it  ourselves,  or  rely  upon  the 
testimony  of  others  who  have  had  such  evidence,  or  infer  its 
existence  from  inductive  reasoning,  or  from  the  presence  of  its 
effects.  The  latter  is  a  pure  mental  conception,  which  has  no 
existence  except  in  relation  to  the  mind  which  forms  it.  Such 
conceptions  are  called  realities  only  by  a  figure  of  speech  ;  they 
ai'e  so  called  to  mark  our  strong  sense  of  the  correctness  with 
which  a  certain  quality  is  attributed  to  a  substance  or  an  action. 


4  PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE. 

Thus,  viHue  is  said,  figuratively,  to  be  a  reality,  only  to  mark 
our  firm  belief  that  there  are  such  things  as  virtuous  actions. 
In  this  class  must  be  ranked  all  the  abstractions  of  the  geome- 
ter and  the  algebraist.  There  are  no  such  things  in  nature  as 
circles  and  triangles ;  the  only  proper  realities  are  circular  ob- 
jects and  triangular  objects. 

Two  classes  of  matters  of  fact.  —  But  the  nature  of  these  ab- 
stractions may  be  most  clearly  apprehended  by  considering, 
in  the  first  place,  what  we  mean  by  matters  of  fact.  These 
may  be  distinguished  into  things  which  exist,  and  events  which 
take  place.  All  the  objects  of  natural  history  and  physical 
science  —  stones,  shells,  plants,  and  animals  —  are  ranked  in 
the  former  class;  all  the  laws,  so  called,  of  physical  science, 
—  the  laws  of  motion,  for  instance,  —  all  the  habits  observed 
by  the  naturalist,  such  as  the  modes  of  growth  and  reproduc- 
tion of  plants  and  animals,  are  comprehended  in  the  latter. 
Both  alike  are  matters  of  fact.  It  is  a  fact  that  the  earth  ex- 
ists, or  is  ;  it  is  equally  a  fact  that  the  earth  moves.  That  there 
is  a  sun  in  the  heavens  is  a  fact  of  one  order ;  that  this  sun 
illumines  objects  on  the  earth  is  a  fact  of  a  different  order,  —  it 
is  an  event  which  takes  place.  We  have  sensible  evidence  t)f 
both.* 

3fode  of  inquiry  and  reasoning  about  abstract  ideas.  —  I  am 
dwelling  too  long,  perhaps,  on  a  very  familiar  distinction ; 
but  it  is  one  that  is  fundamental  to  the  present  inquiry,  which 
cannot  .proceed  without  the  fullest  and  clearest  comprehen- 
sion of  it.  These  two  classes,  which  comprehend  all  objects 
of  knowledge,  are  distinguished  from  each  other,  not  merely  by 
the  broad  and  obvious  lines  of  distinction  inherent  in  their  na- 
ture, which  have  been  akeady  explained,  but  by  radical  differ- 
ences  in  the  modes  of  inquiry  and  reasoning  which  are  respectively 


*  "  The  communication  of  this  kind  of  knowledge/'  says  Whateley,  "  is 
most  usually,  and  most  strictly,  called  information.  We  gain  it  from 
observation  and  from  testimony.  No  mere  internal  workings  of  our  own  minds 
(except  when  the  mind  itself  is  the  very  object  to  be  observed),  or  mere 
discussions  in  words,  will  make  ^fact  known  to  us." — Logic,  p.  268. 


PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  5 

applicable  to  them.  The  relations  of  ideas  —  that  is,  of  abstrac- 
tions, or  pure  ideas  —  are  made  known  to  us  by  intuition  or  re- 
flection ;  and  reasoning  about  them  proceeds  by  the  demonstra- 
tive method,  the  conclusions  at  which  we  arrive  being  absolutely 
certain.  According  to  the  absolute  laws  of  the  human  under- 
standing, —  I  speak  it  reverently,  —  it  is  not  within  the  power 
of  Omnipotence  to  disprove  these  results,  or  even  to  render  them 
doubtful.  Their  falsity  would  involve  a  contradiction ;  to  main- 
tain that  they  are  untrue,  is  to  say,  that  it  is  possible  for  a  thing 
to  be  and  not  to  be  at  one  and  the  same  moment.  All  the  truths 
of  pure  mathematics,  pure. logic,  and  pure  reason  are  metaphys- 
ical truths,  and  we  can  no  more  doubt  them  than  we  can  ques- 
tion the  accuracy  of  the  multiplication  table.  Their  falsity  is 
inconceivable.  This  attribute  of  logical  certainty  proceeds  from 
the  pure,  abstract,  and  perfectly  simple  or  uncompounded  nature 
of  the  ideas  which  enter  into  such  reasoning.  These  ideas  are 
pure  creations  of  the  intellect ;  in  their  uncompounded  and  ab- 
stract character,  they  are  not  derived  from  observation,  and  are 
tlierefore  not  perverted  by  that  great  source  of  error,  the  imper- 
fection of  our  senses,  or  the  limitations  of  our  j)ower  of  percep- 
tion. When  we  entertain  these  ideas,  or  reason  about  them, 
the  mind  is  closed  to  all  outward  impressions,  and  freed  even 
from  the  memory  of  their  former  occurrence.*  The  ideas  that 
are  contemplated,  then,  are  contemplated  in  their  entireness  ;  for, 
being  uncompounded,  if  they  are  apprehended  at  all,  they  must 
he  perfectly  apprehended,  and  consequently  the  relations  between 
them  are  discerned  at  once,  or  by  intuition.  Demonstrative 
reasoning  proceeds  by  a  series  of  such  intuitions,  and  hence  the 
absolute  character  of  its  results.  If  the  chain  of  such  reasoning 
be  too  far  extended,  indeed,  without  a  system  of  notation,  the 

*  "A  clever  man,"  says  Sir  J.  Herschel,  "  shut  up  alone,  and  allowed 
all  unlimited  time,  might  reason  out  for  himself  all  the  truths  of  mathe- 
matics, by  proceeding  from  those  simple  notions  of  space  and  number  of 
which  he  cannot  divest  himself  without  ceasing  to  think ;  but  he  could 
never  tell  by  any  effort  of  reasoning,  what  would  become  of  a  lump  of 
sugar  if  immersed  in  water,  or  what  effect  would  be  produced  on  his  eye 
by  mixing  the  colors  yellow  and  blue." 

1* 


6  PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE. 

imperfections  of  memory  may  come  in,  some  steps  may  be  for- 
gotten, and  mistakes  will  be  committed.  But  this  cause  of 
error  never  affects  a  simple  intuition,  or  a  step  in  the  process 
when  taken  by  itself.     Here  the  certainty  is  absolute. 

Mode  of  inquiry  and  reasoning  about  matters  of  fact.  —  Now, 
wliat  is  the  method  of  inquiry  or  procedure  for  the  other  class 
of  objects  of  knowledge,  — for  matters  of  fact  ?  "We  enter  upon 
totally  different  ground  here.  Instead  of  abstractions,  we  have 
reahties ;  instead  of  shutting  out  sensible  evidence  altogether, 
we  are  obliged  to  rely  upon  it  exclusively ;  instead  of  intuitions, 
we  have  observations  and  experiments ;  instead  of  demonstra- 
tion, we  have  induction  ;  instead  of  the  objects  of  inquiry  being 
perfectly  simple  and  uncompounded,  they  are  made  up  of  an 
unknown  and  unknowable  number  of  elements  and  qualities ; 
and  instead  of  arriving  at  conclusions  which  are  absolutely  true, 
we  gain  those  only  which  are  morally  certain.  I  speak  now  of 
both  kinds  of  matters  of  fact,  —  both  of  things  which  exist,  and 
of  events  which  take  place.  The  imperfections  of  the  senses 
come  in  here  to  their  full  extent,  as  causes  of  possible  error. 
Tlie  objects  of  physical  science  must  always  be  imperfectly  known  ; 
we  never  can  be  sure  that  our  analysis  of  them  is  complete,  or 
that  our  observation  has  taken  in  all  their  outward  qualities. 
The  attractive  power  of  the  loadstone  was  known  for  ages 
before  its  attribute  of  polarity  was  discovered;  yet  what  is 
apparently  more  simple  and  obvious  than  this  quality,  w^hich 
can  be  detected  at  once  by  floating  a  magnet  on  a  piece  of  cork 
in  a  basin  of  water  ?  Down  to  the  times  of  Watt  and  Cavendish, 
water  was  supposed  to  be  a  simple  element,  and  it  figures  as 
such  in  some  of  the  most  remarkable  of  the  ancient  theories  of 
cosmogony ;  these  chemists,  about  a  century  ago,  discovered 
that  it  was  compounded  of  two  gases.  But  it  is  useless  to  mul- 
tiply instances.  The  chemist  will  tell  you  that  it  is  not  impos- 
sible, that  it  is  even  probable,  that  every  one  of  the  sixty  sub- 
stances now  counted  as  elementary  will  ultimately  be  decom- 
posed. Of  course,  the  vast  number  of  compounded  objects  of 
which  Natural  History  takes  cognizance  are  still  more  imper- 
fectly known  in  their  qualities  and  relations,  than  those  substances 


PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  7 

tvliicb,  as  yet,  are  reckoned  elementary.  This  limited  acquaint- 
ance with  the  subjects  of  investigation  must  lead  only  to  qual- 
ified, and,  in  the  logical  meaning  of  the  term,  uncertain,  conclu- 
sions respecting  them. 

If  this  is  the  case  with  things  which  exist,  it  holds  still  more 
obviously  true  of  events  which  take  place.  Our  knowledge  of 
past  events  depends  either  on  memory,  with  its  acknowledged 
manifold  defects,  or  on  the  testimony  of  others,  with  the  multi- 
plied causes  which  bring  either  their  intelligence  or  their  veracity 
into  doubt.  As  to  future  occurrences,  the  field  of  positive  sci- 
ence is  yet  more  limited  ;  the  truth  of  every  proposition  respect- 
ing them  depends  on  the  axiom,  that  the  course  of  nature  is 
uniform,  and  under  similar  circumstances  we  may  look  for  simi- 
lar effects.  Now,  in  the  first  place,  we  never  can  be  sure  that 
the  circumstances  are  perfectly  similar ;  and,  secondly,  the  truth 
of  the  axiom  itself  depends  wholly  on  empirical  evidence.  It 
is  possible,  that  is,  it  is  conceivable,  that  the  sun  may  not  rise 
to-morrow  ;  but  it  is  not  conceivable  that  two  and  two  should 
make  five,  or  that  a  straight  line  should  not  be  the  shortest  dis- 
tance between  two  points.  The  laws  of  motion  are  instances  of 
the  highest  generalization  and  of  the  most  cautious  and  rigid 
induction,  which  the  whole  field  of  physical  science  can  afford ; 
but  what  assurance  have  we  that  these  laws  will  hold  good  for  V 
one  moment  beyond  the  present  time  ?  Obviously,  we  can  have 
only  a  moral  certainty  of  their  future  operation ;  intuition  or 
demonstration  is  here  out  of  the  question. 

The  two  methods  afford  equally  safe  grounds  of  belief  —  There 
is,  then,  a  radical  difference,  or  a  difference  in  kind,  between 
the  two  methods  of  investigation  which  are  applicable  respec- 
tively to  physical  and  to  metaphysical  science.  But  so  far  as 
the  truth  of  the  conclusions,  in  either  case,  is  concerned,  this 
difference  is  not  one  of  degree  ;  our  conviction  is  just  as  firm  in 
the  one  case  as  in  the  other.  ISTo  one  complains  of  the  insuffi- 
ciency of  the  evidence  on  which  rest  all  the  truths  of  physical 
science  and  all  the  facts  of  history.  Our  persuasion  of  the 
reality  of  our  past  experience,  and  of  the  truths  which  depend 
on  that  experience,  would  not  be  affected,  certainly  would  not 


8  PHYSICAL    AND    MKTAPUVSICAL    SCIENCE. 

be  iiu'icascil  ill  the  slightest  degree,  by  a  teclinical  demonstra- 
lioii  of  that  reality  or  of  those  truths.  In  fact,  the  theorems  of 
g(H)iuclry  are  received,  and  practically  applied,  by  multitudes 
who  are  incapable  of  demonsti-ating  them.  The  carpenter,  for 
instance,  makes  almost  daily  use  of  the  forty-fifth  proposition  of 
Euclid,  though  he  is  not  usually  able  to  supply  the  steps  of 
its  logical  proof;  he  knows  that  it  is  correct  by  the  results  of 
his  application  of  it,  and  because  he  is  told  that  others  have 
demonstrated  it,  and  that  he  could  easily  follow  out  the  demon- 
stration himself,  if  he  were  to  give  the  requisite  time  and  atten 
lion  to  the  process.  The  mariner,  also,  steers  his  ship  by  the 
aid  of  his  Practical  Navigator  and  Nautical  Almanac,  though 
he  cannot  give  the  rationale  of  one  of  his  own  calculations. 
Instruct  him  in  this  respect,  teach  him  trigonometry  enough  to 
demonstrate  the  rules  of  plain  sailing,  and  you  will  enlarge  the 
sphere  of  his  ideas  and  add  to  his  sources  of  intellectual  enjoy- 
ment ;  but  you  will  not  increase  by  one  iota  the  strength  of  his 
belief  in  the  correctness  of  the  processes.*     The  moral  evidence 


*  Mr.  Stewart  remarks,  that  the  mathematician  himself  is  obliged  to 
admit  the  evidence  of  testimony  while  engaged  in  his  most  abstruse  investi- 
gations. "  In  astronomical  calculations,  for  example,  how  few  are  the 
instances  in  which  the  data  rest  on  the  evidence  of  our  own  senses  ;  and 
yet  our  confidence  in  the  result  is  not,  on  that  account,  in  the  smallest  de- 
gree Avcakened.  On  the  contrary,  what  certainty  can  be  more  complete 
than  that  with  Avhich  we  look  forward  to  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  or  the 
moon,  on  the  faith  of  elements  and  of  computations  which  w6  have  never 
verified,  and  for  the  accuracy  of  which  we  have  no  ground  of  assurance 
whatever,  hut  the  scientific  reputation  of  the  Avriters  from  whom  wc  have 
borrowed  them.  An  astronomer  who  should  affect  any  scepticism  with 
respect  to  an  event  so  predicted,  would  render  himself  no  less  an  object  of 
ridicule,  than  if  he  were  disposed  to  cavil  about  the  certainty  of  the  sun's 
rising  to-morrow. 

"  Even  in  pure  mathematics,  a  similar  regard  to  testimony,  accompanied 
with  a  similar  faith  in  the  faculties  of  others,  is  by  no  means  uncommon. 
Who  would  scruple,  in  a  geometrical  investigation,  to  adopt  as  a  link  in 
the  chain,  a  theorem  of  Apollonius  or  of  Arcliimedes,  although  he  might 
not  have  leisure  at  the  moment  to  satisfy  himself,  by  an  actual  examination 
of  their  demonstrations,  that  they  had  been  guilty  of  no  paralogism,  either 
from  accident  or  design,  in  the  course  of  their  reasonings  1 " 


PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  9 

on  which  it  formerly  rested  in  his  mind  was  sufficient;  the 
strength  of  the  conviction  produced  by  it  could  not  be  increased. 

It  is  more  pertinent  to  my  present  object  to  remark,  that  the 
conduct  of  human  beings  is  governed  exclusively  by  the  evidence 
and  the  reasoning  which  are  applicable  to  matters  of  fact,  or,  in 
other  words,  by  experience.  It  is  the  only  proof  they  have  that 
food  will  nourish,  fire  burn,  or  Avatcr  drown  them,  —  that  any 
place  exists  which  they  have  never  visited,  or  that  any  person 
lives  with  whom  they  have  not  conversed.  These  contingent 
truths  enter  into  all  our  inferences  from  the  past,  and  all  ouj* 
calculations  for  the  future  ;  man's  life  is  guided  by  them,  from 
the  cradle  to  the  grave.  If  it  be  objected  to  this  view,  that  our 
convictions  of  duty  are  intuitive,  and  therefore  absolute,  I  an- 
swer, that  duty  relates  only  to  motives  and  a  choice  of  ends ; 
action  is  always  a  use  ^of  means,  and  the  selection  of  means  is 
the  work  of  experience.  The  moral  law,  for  instance,  bids  me 
cultivate  honest  and  humane  intentions  towards  my  fellow  man  ; 
how  those  intentions  shall  be  most  properly  manifested  in  out- 
ward conduct,  is  a  question  for  the  intellect,  and  one  that  can  be 
answered  only  by  the  lessons  of  experience.  The  sense  of  ob-^ 
ligation  stops  short  with  the  active  intent. 

The  logic  of  physical  and  metaphysical  inquiry.  —  Here,  then, 
we  rest  the  basis  of  our  inquiry.  All  objects  of  human  hnowledge 
are  divided  into  tivo  classes,  perfectly  distinguishahle  from  each 
other  ;  a  distinct  method  of  investigation,  and  a  peculiar  logic,  or 
reasoning  process,  heing  appropriate  to  each.  The  conclusions 
at  which  ice  arrive  in  the  two  cases  are  equally  loeJl  founded, 
equally  deserving  of  confidence ;  hut  they  differ  ividely  in  the 
hind  or  character  of  the  conviction  on  which  they  rest,  and  in  the 
nature  of  the  process  hy  which  they  were  obtained. 

JEvil  of  confounding  the  tivo  methods.  —  My  next  proposition 
is,  that  these  two  modes  of  inquiry  are  not  interchangeable,  but 
confusion,  uncertainty,  and  error  invariably  result  from  mistak- 
ing one  for  the  other,  or  from  attempting  to  extend  the  limits  of 
either  beyond  its  proper  province.  Matters  of  fact  cannot  he 
demonstrated ;  the  attempt  at  a  demonstration  leads  directly  to 
that  insane  skepticism  which  teaches  us  to  distrust  or  reject  all 


10  PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE. 

experience.  The  relations  of  pure  ideas  cannot  he  ascertained 
by  the  inductive  method;  they  can  neither  be  proved  by  testi- 
mony, nor  learned  from  experiment  and  observation.  The  trial 
of  these  inadequate  media  of  proof  tends  only  to  deprive  the 
soul  of  its  highest  convictions,  and  terminates  in  a  mean  and 
shallow  empiricism.  The  history  of  science,  from  the  earliest 
period  down  to  the  present  day,  affords  numberless  illustrations 
of  the  evil  of  confounding  these  two  methods.  The  physical 
inquiries  of  the  ancients  were  all  fruitless,  because  their  false 
notions  of  the  dignity  of  science  made  them  despise  particulars 
and  begin  with  general  ideas,  from  which,  by  logical  deduction, 
they  hoped  to  obtain  all  special  truths  ;  that  \^,from  abstractions 
they  sought  to  infer  matters  of  fact,  and  thus  to  change  the  labor 
of  the  inquirer  from  observation  to  reilection.  Their  physics 
were  all  metaphysics.  "  The  early  philosophers  of  Greece," 
says  Dr.  TVhewell,  "  entered  upon  the  work  of  physical  specula- 
tion in  a  manner  which  showed  the  vigor  and  confidence  of  the 
questioning  spirit,  as  yet  untamed  by  labors  and  reverses.  It 
was  for  later  ages  to  learn,  that  man  must  acquire,  slowly  and 
patiently,  letter  by  letter,  the  alphabet  in  which  nature  writes 
her  answers  to  such  inquiries ;  the  first  students  wished  to  di- 
vine, at  a  single  glance,  the  whole  import  of  the  book."  As 
their  first  inquiry,  they  endeavored  to  discover  the  origin  and 
principle  of  the  universe.  Thales  maintained  that  it  was  water ; 
according  to  another,  it  was  air ;  while  a  third  considered  fire 
as  the  origin  of  all  things.  This  last  hypothesis,  it  may  be  re- 
marked, has  been  revived  by  a  popular  cosmogonist*  of  our 
own  day,  who  has  found  the  seminal  principle  of  all  things,  in- 
cluding the  various  ranks  of  animate  being,  the  body,  and  even 
the  soul,  of  man,  in  a  primitive  fiery  mist.  These  wide  and 
ambitious  doctrines,  it  has  been  well  remarked,  are  "better 
suited  to  the  dim  magnificence  of  poetry,  than  to  the  purpose  of 
a  philosophy  which  was  to  bear  the  sharp  scrutiny  of  reason. 
"When  we  speak  of  the  principles  of  things,  the  term,  even  now, 

*  The  author  of  the  Vestiges  of  Creation. 


PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  11 

is  very  ambiguous  and  indefinite  in  its  import ;  but  how  much 
more  was  that  the  case  in  the  first  attempts  to  use  such  abstrac- 
tions ! " 

Error  of  the  Schoolmen.  —  The  history  of  physical  science,  as 
it  was  studied  by  the  schoolmen  during  the  Middle  Ages,  is 
quite  as  unsatisfactory  as  the  record  of  its  treatment  by  the 
ancients.  Logic,  which  I  have  ventured  to  class  with  the  meta- 
physical sciences,  because  it  is  exclusively  concerned  with  the 
relations  of  ideas,  or  with  abstractions  of  the  highest  order,  now 
claimed  the  chief  attention  in  the  schools.  There  were  two 
reasons  for  giving  it  this  preference :  first,  because  it  was  held, 
as  before,  that  all  knowledge  might  be  deduced  from  general  ideas, 
80  as  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  studying  nature  or  observing 
particidars  ;  and  secondly,  because  it  was  believed  that  the  an- 
cients had  already  exhausted  the  inquiry  and  completed  the 
work,  so  that  aU  truth  might  be  ascertained,  and  all  controversies 
terminated,  by  a  right  interjiretation  of  the  works  of  Aristotle 
and  his  commentators,  —  this  interpretation  being  governed,  of 
course,  by  the  rules  of  a  sound  logic.  The  scholastics  held, 
'^  that  all  science  may  be  obtained  by  the  use  of  reasoning 
alone,  —  that  by  analyzing  and  combining  the  notions  which 
common  language  brings  before  us,  we  may  learn  all  that  we 
can  know."  The  fallacy  of  this,  it  has  been  well  remarked, 
consists  in  mistaking  the  universality  of  the  theory  of  language 
for  the  generalization  of  facts.  All  words,  excepting  proper 
names,  denote  either  general  conceptions  or  abstract  ideas ;  and 
the  study  of  the  relations  of  words  is  therefore  a  study  of  the 
relations  of  ideas,  and  must  proceed  by  the  former  of  the  two 
methods  which  we  have  been  considering,  —  that  is,  by  intuition 
and  demonstration. 

This  method  barren  of  results.  —  We  might  well  expect  that 
physical  science,  or  the  study  of  matters  of  fact,  when  pursued 
by  this  method,  would  produce  only  nugatory  or  profitless  re- 
sults. It  has  been  stated  on  high  authority,  that  not  one  step 
had  really  been  taken  in  physical  science  down  to  the  period  of 
the  Revival  of  Letters ;  —  not  a  foot  of  ground  had  been  gaineci 


12  PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE. 

by  the  labors  of  more  than  two  thousand  years.*  This  state- 
ment is  perhaps  too  strong ;  for  something  was  undoubtedly 
acconij)lislied  in  astronomy  by  Ilipparchus  and  Ptolemy,  some- 
thing ill  natural  history  by  such  observers  as  Aristotle,  Theo- 
phrastus,  and  Pliny,  while  the  medical  profession,  even  at  the 
l)resent  day,  does  not  wholly  repudiate  the  authority  of  Hippoc- 
rates and  Galen.  But  how  little  real  progress  the  human  mind 
liad  made  during  this  long  lapse  of  centuries,  may  be  correctly 
inferred  from  the  round  of  studies  pursued  at  the  Universities ; 
the  course  of  seven  sciences,  included  under  the  fantastic  names 
of  the  trivium  and  the  quadrivium,  comprised  grammar,  logic, 
and  rhetoric,  together  with  arithmetic,  geometry,  music,  and 
astronomy.  Of  these,  only  the  last  can  be  ranked  among  the 
physical  sciences,  as  music  was  then  only  an  art  which  had  not 
been  reduced  to  its  scientific  principles.  The  others  are  all 
metaphysical  in  character,  and  the  only  organon,  or  method  of 
investigation,  which  was  then  in  use,  being  appropriate  to  these, 
the  success  with  which  they  were  cultivated  affords  a  striking 
contrast  to  the  barrenness  of  physical  inquiry.  Logic  came 
almost  perfect  from  the  hands  of  him  who  may  be  called  its 
inventor.  Sir  William  Hamilton,  the  nJ^st  accomplished  logi- 
cian of  our  own  day,  asserts  distinctly,  that  there  has  been, 
"in  fact,  no  progress  made  in  the  general  development  of  the 


=*  "  Of  the  criteria  for  guiding  our  judgment  among  so  many  different 
and  discordant  schools,  there  is  none  more  to  be  relied  on  than  that  which 
is  exliibited  in  their  fruits ;  for  the  fruits  of  any  speculative  doctrine,  or  the 
inventions  which  it  has  really  produced,  are,  as  it  were,  sponsors  or  vouch- 
ers for  the  trutlus  which  it  contains.  Now,  it  is  well  known,  that  from  the 
philosophy  of  the  Greeks,  with  its  numerous  derivative  schools,  hardly  one 
experimental  discovery  can  be  collected  which  has  any  tendency  to  aid  or 
ameliorate  the  condition  of  man,  or  which  is  entitled  to  rank  with  the  ac- 
knowledged principles  of  genuine  science.  Wherefore,  as  in  religion,  faith 
is  proved  by  its  works,  so  in  philosophy,  it  were  to  be  wished,  that  those 
theories  should  be  accounted  vain,  which,  when  tried  by  their  fruits,  are 
barren ;  much  more  those  which,  instead  of  grapes  and  olives,  have  pro- 
duced only  thorns  and  thistles  of  controversy."  —  Bacon's  Nov.  Org.  Aph. 
Ixxiii, 


PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  13 

syllogism  since  the  time  of  Aristotle."  The  case  of  mathe- 
matics is  nearly  as  strong,  the  geometry  of  Euclid  and  Archim- 
edes being  still  the  boast  of  the  science.  These  were  the 
results  of  applying  the  appropriate  mode  of  reasoning  to  the 
metaphysical  sciences,  or  those  which  are  concerned  exclusively 
with  the  relations  of  ideas ;  while  the  inappropriateness  of  this 
same  mode  of  reasoning  to  physical  science,  that  is,  to  matters 
of  fact,  is  proved  by  the  almost  total  failure  of  all  attempts  in 
this  department  for  more  than  twenty  centuries. 

Rapid  progress  of  physical  scietice  after  the  Baconian  reform, 
—  It  is  not  necessary  to  dwell  here  on  so  familiar  a  history  as 
that  of  the  sudden  rise  and  extraordinary  development  of  phys- 
ical science  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The  rapid 
succession  of  brilliant  discoveries  made  by  Galileo,  Stevinus, 
and  Gilbert,  was  in  itself  a  proof  that  they  had  at  length  hit 
upon  the  true  method  of  physical  investigation,  just  before  the 
illustrious  Englishman  —  himself  hardly  capable  of  reducing 
any  one  of  his  own  rules  successfully  to  practice,  but  gifted 
with  an  intellect  no  less  clear  and  penetrating  than  compre- 
hensive and  profound,  and  with  a  sagacity  and  hopefulness 
which  unrolled  before  him  the  history  of  the  future  triumphs  of 
science  almost  as  distinctly  as  the  record  of  its  past  defeats  — 
suppHed  the  rationale  of  this  method,  reduced  it  to  a  complete 
system,  and  evolved  and  stated  with  wonderful  precision  the 
rules  for  its  successful  use,  in  those  immortal  works  which  have 
gained  for  him  the  deserved  title  of  Father  of  the  Inductive 
Philosophy.  To  say  that  the  inductive  method  was  practised 
in  some  cases  before  the  time  of  Bacon,  is  about  as  idle  as  to 
assert  that  men  sometimes  reasoned  correctly  before  Aristotle 
wrote  his  Logic ;  though  the  assertion  in  the  former  case  is  not 
true  to  the  same  extent  as  in  the  latter,  since  the  latter  half  of 
the  century  in  which  Bacon  was  born,  though  not  that  in  which 
his  principal  works  were  published,  witnessed  the  first  successful 
application  of  this  method  to  physical  science.  The  merit  of 
these  two  great  men  is  of  the  same  order ;  each  wrought  out 
with  scientific  precision  and  completeness  the  logic  of  discovery 
and  proof  in  one  of  the  two  great  departments  of  human  hnowl- 

2 


14  PHYSICAL    ANI>    aiETAPHYSICAL    SCONCE. 

edge.  Tlic  one  taught  us  tbe  theory  of  reasoning  si/llogisticaUy, 
or  to  a  demonstration^  about  the  relations  of  ideas ;  the  other 
showed  us  the  theory  of  reasoning  inductively  from  matters  of 
fact. 

Corruption  of  ^netaphysical  science  hy  the  inductive  method.  — 
The  extraordinary  success  of  physical  inquiry  after  Bacon's 
time  tended  naturally  to  the  depression,  and  somewhat  to  the 
injury  or  corru{)tion,  of  abstract  science.  The  undue  extension 
of  the  inductive  method  to  the  region  of  pure  ideas  produced 
tlie  ethical  system  of  Ilobbes,  himself  a  friend  and  disciple  of 
the  great  master,  but  whose  philosophy  is  now  a  byword  frons 
its  degrading  principles,  and  its  tendencies  to  selJSshness  iu 
morals,  to  materialism  in  jihilosophy,  and  to  despotism  in  poli- 
tics. Among  his  successors  may  be  counted  Mandeville,  "the 
buffoon  and  sophister  of  the  ale-house,"  and  the  English  school 
of  deists  of  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  including  Boling- 
broke,  the  friend  and  philosophical  instructor  of  Pope.  From 
liim  his  satirical  pupil  learned  to  sneer  at  the  metaphysicians 
of  the  older  school,,  who,  in  the  Universities  or  the  Church,  dis- 
tiTistful  of  the  tendeneies  of  modem  physical  science,  and  per- 
haps ignorant  alike  of  its  principles  and  its  practice,  still  kept 
up  their  fondness  for  ancient  and  abstract  learning. 

A  later  instance  of  the  erroneous  application  of  the  method 
of  physical  inquiry  to  metaphysical  subjects  may  be  found  in 
the  writings  of  the  celebrated  David  Hartley,  who  endeavored 
to  account  for  the  course  and  association  of  our  ideas  by  vibra- 
^  tions  and  vibratiuncles  in  the  medullary  substance  of  the  brain. 
Of  the  same  school  was  Dr.  Priestley,  whose  just  fame  for  his 
brilliant  discoveries  in  natural  science  inclines  one  to  speak  ten- 
derly of  his  philosophical  speculations,  though  his  habits,  formed 
in  the  laboratory  and  other  schools  of  experimental  investiga- 
tion, betrayed  him  into  the  avoAved  support  of  materialism,  and 
of  wliat  he  calls  the  doctrine  of  '■^philosophical  necessity."  The 
influence  of  the  same  cause  of  error  may  be  traced  in  the  works 
of  the  French  philosophers,  so  called,  of  the  last  century,  espec- 
ially in  those  of  Helvetius,  Volney,  D'Holbach,  and  Condillac. 
Helvetius,  for  instance,  refusing  to  receive  any  other  evidence 


PHYSICAI.    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  15 

than  that  of  the  senses,  tracing  all  ideas  to  this  source,  and  as- 
suming the  inductive  method  to  be  the  only  guide  to  knowledge, 
can  find  no  cause  for  the  superiority  of  man  over  the  brute,  ex- 
cept that  the  human  hand  is  a  more  convenient  instrument  than 
the  foot  of  a  quadruped,  which  terminates  in  horn,  nails,  or 
claws.  "  The  life  of  animals,  in  general,"  he  observes,  "  being 
of  a  shorter  duration  than  that  of  man,  does  not  permit  them  to 
make  so  many  observations,  or  to  acquire  so  many  ideas ;  and 
animals,  being  better  armed  and  better  clothed  by  nature  than 
the  human  species,  have  fewer  wants,  and  consequently  fewer 
motives  to  stimulate  or  exercise  their  invention.  Who  can 
doubt,  then,"  he  triumphantly  asks,  "  that  if  the  wrist  of  a  man 
had  been  terminated  by  the  hoof  of  a  horse,  the  species  would 
still  have  been  wanderinsr  in  the  forest  ?  " 

Such  vagaries  of  speculation  are  not  a  whit  more  respectable 
than  the  opposite  errors  of  the  schoolmen,  who  sought  to  inter- 
pret nature  by  the  relations  of  abstract  ideas,  or,  in  other  words, 
to  ascertain  facts  by  the  aid  of  a  transcendental  logic.  It  would 
be  \erj  unjust  to  accuse  the  inductive  method  of  leading  to  these 
gross  blunders,  which  have  arisen  solely  from  a  misapplication 
of  that  method,  from  an  extension  of  it  to  a  province  which  it 
was  never  formed  to  govern,  namely,  the  region  of  pure  mental 
conceptions.  We  shall  be  likely  to  avoid  both  causes  of  error 
by  keeping  constantly  in  view  the  axiom,  that  the  methods,  as 
well  as  the  objects,  of  physical  and  of  metaphysical  inquiry  are 
radically  different.  We  never  can  demonstrate  a  matter  of  fact ; 
we  can  have  no  sensible  evidence  of  the  relations  of  abstract 
ideas.  There  is  no  question  of  dignity  between  the  two  meth- 
ods ;  each  is  sovereign  in  its  own  sphere.  There  is  no  superi- 
ority of  the  one  kind  of  evidence  over  the  other,  when  considered 
as  a  foundation  of  belief ;  both  lead  to  positive  and  well-found- 
ed convictions. 

Confusion  of  the  two  methods  in  our  own  times.  —  The  latest 
historian  of  the  Inductive  Sciences  is  not  satisfied  with  this  ex- 
clusion of  metaphysical  ideas  from  the  domain  of  physical  in- 
vestigation ;  his  work  upon  the  Philosophy  of  these  sciences, 
which  is  an  elaborate  attempt  to  enlarge  the  inductive  method 


16  niYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIKNCE. 

by  the  doctrines,  and  to  clothe  it  in  tlie  terminology,  of  Kantian 
metaphysics,  is  a  virtual  restoration  of  the  scholastic  method,  or 
the  philosopliy  of  the  INIiddle  Ages,  and  must  be  considered  as 
"  a  remarkable  instance  of  what  has  been  aptly  called  the  pe- 
culiar zest  which  the  reaction  against  modern  tendencies  gives 
to  the  revival  of  ancient  absurdities."  When  Dr.  Whewell,  in 
his  glowing  admiration  of  the  brilliant  discoveries  recently  made 
in  natural  science,  expresses  his  confident  hope*  that  the  mere 
physical  inquirer  will  soon  ])ass  on  from  a  determination  of  the 
laws  of  phenomena  to  a  knowledge  of  the  efficient  causes  of  these 
phenomena,  and  gives,  as  a  reason  for  this  expectation,  the  light 
that  has  recently  been  thrown  upon  the  action  of  polar  forces, 
one  may  be  permitted  to  doubt  whether  he  knows  the  meaning 
of  the  words  he  uses,  or  is  able  to  distinguish  efficient  from  oc- 
casional  causes.  A  far  more  cautious  thinker,  Mr.  John  Stuart 
Mill,  in  his  zeal  for  inductive  logic,  falls  into  an  error  of  the 
opposite  character,  by  boldly  taking  up  the  doctrine,  that  even 
the  axioms  of  the  mathematician  are  but  generalizations  from 
experience,  that  there  is  no  distinction  betw^een  necessary  truths 
and  facts  of  observation,  and,  consequently,  that  the  reasonings 
of  the  geometer  do  not  differ  in  kind  from  the  inductions  of  the 
optician  or  the  chemist.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  that  the 
common  opinion  of  the  scientific  world  lies  between  the  extreme 
doctrines  maintained  respectively  by  these  two  theorists. 

The  case  of  the  Mixed  Sciences  considered.  —  The  case  of  the 
Mixed  Sciences  deserves  consideration  here,  as  it  really  corrobo- 
rates the  principles  that  have  been  advanced,  though  it  may 
appear  at  first  sight  to  conflict  with  them.  Pure  logic  and  pure 
mathematics  are  not  so  much  sciences,  as  methods  of  scientific 
inquiry,  or  organa  of  investigation  and  proof.  They  are  modes 
of  reasoning ^  irrespective  of  the  subjects  or  facts  which  we  reason 


*  Nay,  more  ;  he  does  not  merely  hope.  If  language  rightly  conveys  his 
meaning,  he  believes  the  thing  has  been  done.  He  says,  "  Newton  then  dis- 
covered, not  merely  a  law  ofplienornena,  but  a  true  cause ;  and  therefore  he  was 
the  greatest  of  discoverers  !  "  Greatest  indeed ;  if  this  assertion  were  true, 
he  was  divine.  —  Phil,  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  2d  ed.,  Vol.  II.  p.  323. 


PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  17 

about,  and  therpfore  applicable  to  all  subjects.  In  the  syllogism, 
for  instance,  the  conclusion  follows  with  absolute  certainty  from 
the  premises,  the  truth  of  the  premises  being  presupposed ; 
whether  this  truth  rests  upon  sensible  evidence,  or  intuition,  or 
a  previous  demonstration,  is  of  no  consequence.  The  principles 
of  the  syllogism,  then,  are  pure  abstractions ;  and  the  letters  of 
the  alphabet,  or  purely  arbitrary  marks  taken  as  signs  of  ^ny 
ideas  or  facts  whatsoever,  are  the  most  convenient  notation  for 
expressing  them.  If  the  premises  are  matters  of  fact,  or  con- 
tingent truth,  the  conclusion  will  also  be  a  matter  of  fact,  or 
contingent  truth ;  only  the  relation  between  premises  ^nd  con- 
clusion is  a  metaphysical  truth,  and  as  such  is  made  known  by 
intuition. 

Pure  mathematics  never  lead  to  a  discovery  of  matters  of  fact. 
—  The  case  is  precisely  similar  with  mathematics,  in  which  we 
employ  a  notation  of  the  same  sort.  In  its  pure  form,  this 
science  proceeds  from  abstraction  to  abstraction,  the  truth  de- 
veloped by  it  having  no  foundation  in  fact,  and  never  being 
exemplified  in  the  external  world.  If  an  event  in  the  physical 
world,  or  a  proposition  founded  on  experience,  be  taken  as  a 
datum,  or  point  of  departure  for  the  inquiry,  however  long  the 
chain  of  mathematical  reasoning  may  be  which  proceeds  from 
it,  the  result  at  which  we  arrive  is  a  truth  of  the  same  order 
with  the  one  which  formed  the  basis  of  the  investigation.  It 
has  lost  nothing,  and  it  has  gained  nothing,  in  point  of  logical 
certainty,  through  the  process  to  which  it  has  been  subjected. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  most  brilliant  achievement  that  is  re- 
corded in  the  whole  history  of  mathematical  science,  —  the 
recent  discovery,  by  Adams  and  Leverrier,  of  a  new  orb  on  the 
further  verge  of  our  planetary  system.  Its  existence  was  long 
before  suspected,  for  it  was  said  that  its  influence  had  been  felt 
trembling  along  the  far-extended  line  of  our  delicate  analysis. 
But  hoiv  was  this  influence  detected  ?  It  was  through  repeated 
observations,  made  by  the  telescope,  of  certain  irregularities  in 
the  motion  of  Uranus,  —  observations  so  delicate,  and  irregu- 
larities so  slight,  that  many  years  elapsed  before  it  could  be 
said  with  certainty  that  the  latter  were  real,  or  before  they 

2* 


Ih  PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE. 

could  be  measured  so  nicely  as  to  afford  a  basis  for  the  calcula- 
tions which  were  to  reveal  the  mass  and  the  position  of  the 
body  that  caused  them  ;  —  I  say  the  mass  and  the  position,  for 
the  general  fact  of  the  existence  of  sueli  a  body  was  inferred  at 
once,  by  strict  induction,  from  the  mere  knowledge  that  there 
were  such  irregularities. 

A  boat,  moored  at  night  by  the  side  of  a  placid  stream,  sud- 
denly heaves  and  oscillates  as  a  few  slight  ripples  move  over 
the  surface  of  the  waters  ;  and  the  watcher  in  that  little  boat, 
though  he  can  descry  nothing  in  the  darkness,  knows  at  once 
that  some  large  object  not  far  off  is  passing  up  or  down  the 
river,  and  throwing  off  those  waves  which  extend  obliquely 
from  its  wake.  Had  he  instruments  nice  enough  to  measure 
the  exact  size  and  force  of  these  ripples,  and  the  aid  of  an  em- 
pirical law,  like  that  of  Bode,  to  teach  him  that  the  object  could 
move  only  through  a  certain  channel  at  a  known  distance  from 
him,  he  might  calculate  the  size  and  exact  position  of  the 
moving  mass,  so  as  to  turn  his  night-glass  directly  upon  it. 
This  is  precisely  what  was  done  by  Adams  and  Leverrier. 
The  calculation  alone  was  mathematical ;  the  existence  of  the 
new  planet  had  previously  been  made  known  by  induction,  and 
the  data  used  by  the  computers  were  all  observed  facts.  And 
it  was  not  the  mathematical  process  which  afforded  any  neio  evi- 
dence, or  added  to  the  convictions  of  astronomers  that  a  hitherto 
nnobserved  planet  rolled  beyond  the  path  of  Uranus.  The  cal- 
culations left  this  supposed  fact  precisely  where  it  was  before, 
with  the  exact  measure  or  kind  of  certainty  which  belongs  to  a 
truth  of  induction.*  The  crowning  labor  of  the  whole,  the  real 
discovery,  which,  in  legal  phrase,  changed  circumstantial  to 
direct  evidence,  was  made  when  Challis  at  Cambridge  and 
Galle  at  Berlin  turned  their  telescopes  to  the  region  indicated, 


*  "  Calculation,"  says  Dugald  Stewart,  "  is  certainly  not  an  instrument 
of  discovery  at  all  analogous  to  experiment  and  observation ;  it  can  ac- 
complish nothing  in  the  study  of  nature  till  they  have  supplied  the  mate- 
rials ;  and  is  indeed  only  one  of  the  arts  by  which  we  are  enabled  to  give 
a  greater  degree  of  accuracy  to  their  results.'* 


PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  19 

and  actually  saw  th€  new  orb  which  was  causing  this  ripple  in 
the  heavens.  In  what  sense,  or  with  what  color  of  reasoning, 
then,  can  it  be  said  that  moral  evidence,  the  testimony  of  the 
senses,  is  inferior  in  degree  to  mathematical  certainty? 

Mixed  diaracter  of  ethical  science.  —  It  would  not  be  difficult, 
in  the  case  of  any  of  the  Mixed  Sciences,  to  separate  demonstra- 
tive from  empirical  truths,  by  simply  inquiring  whether  the 
terms  of  the  proposition  express  abstract  or  concrete  ideas. 
Ethical  science  has  this  mixed  character,  quite  as  much  so  as 
Mechanics.  Casuistry  consists  in  the  application  of  the  general 
and  abstract  principles  of  ethics  to  particular  cases ;  and  here, 
from  the  difficulty  of  getting  at  or  expressing  all  the  facts  in 
the  case,  doubt  comes  in.  If  I  say,  that  veracity  is  a  duty  of 
paramount  ohligation^  I  affirm  what  no  human  being,  in  the  full 
possession  of  his  reason,  will  dare  to  deny,  any  more  than  to 
question  the  conclusions  of  the  geometer.  But  if  informed,  on 
some  express  occasion,  that  I  am  bound  to  teU  the  whole  truth  to 
a  sick  person,  or  a  madman,  I  demur  ;  here  is  a  particular  case, 
and  all  the  attendant  circumstances  must  be  noted ;  it  seems 
necessary  to  inquire  what  are  the  motives  for  giving  intelligence 
to  such  a  person,  and  what  will  be  the  probable  consequences  of 
imparting  to  him  the  whole  truth.  I  do  not  undertake  to  decide 
the  point ;  moralists  diflfer  about  it ;  and  this  difference  i3  quite 
enough  for  my  purpose,  which  is  to  show,  that  whenever  we 
come  down  from  the  abstract  to  the  concrete,  doubts  may  rea- 
sonably and  righteously  be  entertained.  We  have  left  the  re- 
gion of  abstract  truths,  of  intuition  and  demonstration,  and  come 
down  to  a  practical  application,  to  the  world  of  realities,  where 
a  different  method  must  be  pursued;  we  must  here  observe 
facts,  weigh  probabilities,  estimate  consequences,  and  bring  all 
the  resources  of  the  inductive  logic  into  play.  Let  it  not  be 
said,  that  this  is  removing  the  certainty  of  moral  obligation  to  a 
point  whence  it  can  never  actually  guide  the  conduct  of  men. 
In  vastly  the  greater  number  of  instances,  the  light  xohich  ob- 
servation and  experience  afford  for  the  application  of  the  rah  is 
quite  as  clear  and  convincing  as  the  boasted  demonstration  which 
supports  tJie  abstract  principle ;  and  in  the  few  remaining  cases, 


20  PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE. 

as  the  moral  law  relates  exclusively  to  motives,  there  is  no  dan- 
ger of  fatal  error. 

Ultraism  and  fanaticism  traced  to  the  abuse  of  abstract  prin- 
ciples.—  And  herein,  as  it  seems  to  me,  is  one  great  cause  of 
the  abuse  of  general  principles  in  morals,  politics,  and  jurispru- 
dence, and  of  the  intolerable  evils  which  are  occasioned  by 
fanaticism  of  belief  and  a  reckless  ultraism.  It  may  be  granted 
that  the  abstract  principle,  the  grand  object  in  view,  is  one  of 
awful  and  imperative  obligation,  overriding  all  considerations 
of  personal  interest,  and  needing  to  be  prosecuted  with  a  mar- 
tyr's zeal,  perhaps  even  to  a  martyr's  fate.     But  this  admis- 

y\  sion  does  not  justify  me,  on  a  particular  occasion,  in  shutting 
If  my  eyes  and  rushing  at  that  object  like  a  mad  bull,  careless  of 
the  injury  or  ruin  that  I  may  cause,  or  of  the  other  duties  that 
I  may  trample  down  in  my  path.  The  question  respecting  the 
validity  of  the  pHnciple  is  totally  distinct  from  that  which  con- 
cerns  the  choice  of  ineans,  of  the  time  and  manner  of  carrying  it 
into  effect.  The  former  is  determined  by  intuition,  —  by  "^the 
inner  light,*'  if  you  will,  —  by  the  candle  which  the  Lord  hath 
set  up  in  every  unperverted  conscience,  lighting  him  on  to  that 
clear,  absolute,  and  immediate  conviction  which  knows  no 
doubt,  and  quails  not  at  any  personal  sacrifice.  The  latter  is 
to  be  settled  by  careful  and  anxious  observation  of  the  particu- 
lar circumstances  of  the  case,  by  a  cautious  induction  of  exam- 
ples illustrating  consequences,  by  examining  heedfuUy  and  rev- 
erently all  the  other  duties  that  may  possibly  be  violated  by 

A  our  conduct.  If  this  scrutiny  be  neglected,  not  even  the  glory 
of  self  sacrifice  will  avail  to  cover  up  the  awful  error,  except, 
perhaps,  in  our  own  esteem.  Omitting  this,  though  the  zealot 
should  follow  his  principles  even  to  the  scaffold  or  the  stake,  his 
name  shall  not  be  encircled  with  the  glory  of  a  martyr,  but  it 
shall  be  said  of  him,  that  he  "  died  as  the  fool  dieth." 

In  what  proportions  demonstrative  reasoning  is  applicable  to 
the  various  Mixed  Sciences.  —  Coming  back  for  a  moment  to 
the  main  subject  of  discussion,  it  may  be  observed,  that  the  pecu- 
liar clearness  and  force  of  demonstrative  reasoning  seem  to  depend 
on  that  perfect  knowledge  of  the  subjects  of  inquiry,  which  results 


PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  21 

from  their  simplicity  or  uncompounded  character.  In  the  sci- 
ence of  Medicine,  at  least  in  the  therapeutical  branch  of  it,  we 
need  to  know  many  or  all  of  the  qualities  and  constituents  of 
very  complex  objects,  —  the  medicinal  qualities  of  the  drugs, 
the  peculiarities  of  the  patient's  constitution,  and  the  circum- 
stances of  the  moment,  which  may  greatly  modify  the  action  of 
the  former  upon  the  latter.  Obviously,  this  is  the  business  of 
sheer  empiricism,  being  in  many  instances  no  better  than  guess- 
work.* In  Chemistry,  we  go  a  step  higher,  as  it  is  necessary 
to  attend,  at  most,  to  the  qualities  or  elements  of  but  one  class 
of  objects ;  still,  we  never  can  know  that  the  analysis  is  com- 
plete, or  the  observation  perfect,  and  are  therefore  obhged  to 
grope  our  way  by  experiment  and  very  limited  induction,  per- 
haps never  establishing  a  universal  principle  by  a  priori  evi- 
dence. In  the  science  of  Mechanics,  we  make  a  great  advance, 
as  many  abstractions  are  employed,  friction,  the  rigidity  of  ma- 
terials, and  the  resistance  of  the  air,  being  generally  put  aside ; 
mathematical  reasoning  here  comes  into  play,  which  had  no 
application  in  the  former  sciences,  and  our  conclusions  are 
more  abstract,  more  general,  and  therefore  less  practically  avail- 
able.'f     In  Celestial  Mechanics,  it  happens  curiously,  that  the 


*  "  The  evidence  on  which  the  physician  proceeds,"  says  Dugald  Stew- 
art, "  so  far  as  it  rests  on  experience,  is  weakened  or  destroyed  by  the 
uncertain  condition  of  every  new  case  to  which  his  former  resuhs  are  to 
be  appHed.  Without  a  peculiar  sagacity  and  discrimination  in  marking 
not  only  the  resembling,  but  the  characteristical,  feature  of  disorders  classed 
under  the  same  technical  name,  his  practice  cannot  be  said  with  propriety 
to  be  guided  by  any  one  rational  principle  of  decision,  but  merely  by  blind 
and  random  conjecture." 

t  "  That  practical  science  which  relates  to  the  strength  of  materials," 
for  instance,  "  combines  the  principles  of  several  sciences.  Let  the  prob- 
lem be,  to  determine  the  necessary  breadth  and  depth  of  the  girder  of  a 
floor,  that  shall  sustain  a  given  weight,  the  length  of  the  span  also  being 
given.  Now,  these  dimensions  are  not  to  be  found  without  having  re- 
course, first,  to  the  higher  mathematics,  or  those  purely  abstract  truths 
which  are  independent  of  all  the  laws  of  the  actual  world,  and  which 
would  be  what  they  are,  although  there  were  no  such  principle  as  gravi- 
tation, or  no  material  system.    In  the  next  place,  this  law  of  gravitation 


22  rnYSICAL    and   METAPnYSICAL    SCIENCE. 

abstractions  are,  as  it  were,  rcadj-made  by  nature,  gravitation 
being  the  sole  quality  that  it  is  necessary  to  take  into  view. 
Friction,  the  rigidity  of  materials,  and  a  resisting  medium  — 
though  of  this  last  there  may  be  some  doubt  —  are  eliminated 
by  the  nature  of  the  case ;  the  problem  is  complicated  only  by 
the  gravitating  effect  of  different  bodies  on  each  other.  Our 
conclusions  are  very  general,  then,  but  also  very  limited,  as  they 
relate  exclusively  to  position  and  motion.  Astronomy,  it  was 
remarked  many  years  ago,  is  a  perfect  science  ;  and  so  it  is, 
the  theory  of  it,  though  the  improvement  of  instruments  is  daily 
bringing  to  light  new  facts. 

Thus  it  appears,  that  we  approximate  the  sphere  of  meta- 
physical evidence  and  demonstrative  reasoning  just  in  propor- 
tion as  we  leave  the  world  of  realities  and  facts,  and  abandon 
the  consideration  of  objects  in  their  entu-eness,  or  in  all  their 
relations.* 


must  be  understood,  in  order  to  find  the  point  of  the  strain,  as  well  as  the 
time  proportion  between  depth  and  breadth.  And,  lastly,  tbe  peculiar  prop- 
erties of  the  several  species  of  timber  must  be  precisely  known,  and  known 
by  experiment ;  .  .  .  and  it  is  not  the  mathematician,  but  the  naturalist,  who 
must  inform  the  practical  man  on  these  points." 

"  Now,  let  it,  in  these  cases,  be  supposed  that  the  mathematician,  dogmat- 
ically confident  of  his  demonstrations,  (and  this  is  in  fact  the  fault  of  the 
earlier  mathematicians,  and  not  seldom  of  Leibnitz,)  to  determine  the 
problem  above  mentioned,  as  if  it  were  a  pure  abstraction;  or,  if  he  referred 
loosely  to  certain  vulgar  facts  concerning  the  strength  of  timber,  were  nei- 
ther to  make  experiments  of  this  physical  kind,  nor  to  swerve  at  all  from 
his  mathematical  processes  in  regard  to  them:  —  in  this  case,  all  his  pro- 
ducts must  be  erroneous.  Or,  though  correct  mathematically,  they  would  be 
inapplicable  to  the  real  world,  and  useless,  or  worse  tlian  useless,  in  prac- 
tice." —  Isaac  Taylor's  Introduction  to  Edwards  on  the  Will,  p.  cxxxiii. 

*  Every  one  would  wish  to  speak  of  Dr.  Whewell  with  the  respect  which 
is  required  by  his  encyclopedic  learning,  his  indefatigable  activity  of 
mind,  and  the  zealous  devotion  of  all  his  powers  to  the  best  interests  of 
science  and  education.  But  it  has  been  wittily  said  of  him,  that  "  his  ^orfe 
is  science,  and  his  foible  is  omniscience."  It  is  to  be  wished  that  he  had 
let  metaphysics  alone,  and  had  contented  himself  with  the  glory  of  master- 
ing, and  doing  something  to  improve,  every  one  of  the  Inductive  Sciences. 
His  great  work  on  these  sciences  contains,  along  with  many  ingenious 
disquisitions  and  a  prodigious  amount  of  learning,  a  great  deal  of  bad  phi- 


PHYSICAL    AND    METAPHYSICAL    SCIENCE.  23 

iosophy.  He  seriously  undertakes  to  prove,  that  Astronomy  and  Me- 
chanics are  not  Mixed,  but  Pure  Sciences  ;  that  the  data  on  which  they 
rest,  as  well  as  the  steps  of  reasoning  by  which  they  proceed,  dre  intui- 
tions of  pure  reason,  independent  of  ?Jl  experience ;  that  gravity,  for  in- 
stance, is  a  necessary  and  inherent  quality  of  matter,  like  extension  and 
Jigure,  —  a  doctrine  which  Newton  himself  emphatically  disavows ;  and 
that  the  three  primary  laws  of  motion,  in  like  manner,  are  not  general 
/acts,  made  known  by  induction,  but  are  original  and  necessary  truths,  not 
evolved  out  of  experience,  but  first  revealed  by  careful  study  and  re- 
flection upon  the  train  of  our  ideas.  He  thus  binds  himself  to  prove,  (to 
adopt  Sir  J.  Herschel's  illustration,)  that  a  clever  man,  shut  up  alone, 
might  work  out  for  himself,  by  dint  of  hard  thinking,  the  whole  Principia 
of  Newton,  without  any  aid  from  experiment  and  observation.  These 
heresies  have  been  sufficiently  and  sharply  reproved  by  Sir  William  Ham- 
ilton, Mr.  Mansel,  (the  author  of  Prolegomena  Logica,)  and,  in  advance,  by 
Dugald  Stewart.   -Hamilton  argues  thus  :  — 

"  Dr.  Wh'ewell  assert?,  *  that  such  propositions  do  not  depend  at  all  upon 
experience,'  On  the  contrary,  I  maintain  that  all  propositions  which  in- 
volve the  notion  of  gravitation,  weight,  pressure,  presuppose  experience ; 
for  by  experience  alone  do  we  become  aware,  that  there  is  such  a  quale 
and  quantum  in  the  universe.  To  think  it  existent,  there  is  no  necessity 
of  thought ;  for  we  can  easily  in  thought  conceive  the  particles  of  matter, 
(whatever  these  may  be)  indifferent  to  each  other,  —  nay,  endowed  with  a 
mutually  repulsive,  instead  of  a  mutually  attinctive  force.  We  can  even,  in 
thought,  annihilate  matter  itself.  So  far,  the  asserted  axiom  is  merely  a 
derived,  and  that  too  merely  an  empirical,  proposition.  But,  moreover, 
not  only  are  we  dependent  on  experience  for  the  fact  of  the  existence  of 
gravitation,  etc.,  we  are  also  indebted  to  observation  for  the  further  facts 
of  the  uniform  and  continuous  operation  of  that  force  ;  and  thus,  in  a  second 
(and  even  third)  potence,  are  all  such  propositions  dependent  upon  expe- 
rience." 

But  Dr.  Whewell  remarks,  if  it  be  said  that  we  cannot  have  the  idea  of 
pressure  without  the  use  of  the  senses,  and  this  is  experience,  the  same 
may  be  said  of  our  ideas  of  relation  in  space ;  and  thus  Geometry,  no  less 
than  Mechanics,  depends  upon  experience  in  this  sense. 

Hamilton  replies,  "  This  is  only  another  instance  of  confusion  of  thought 
and  ignorance  of  the  subject.  The  ideas  of  relation  in  space  and  the  ideas 
of  pressure  differ  obtrusively  in  this  :  —  that  we  can,  in  thought,  easily  an- 
nul pressure,  all  the  properties  of  matter,  and  even  matter  itself;  but  are 
wholly  unable  to  think  away  from  space  and  its  relations.  The  latter  are 
conditions  of,  the  former  are  educts  from,  experience  ;  and  it  is  this  differ- 
ence of  their  object-matters,  which  constitutes  Geometry  and  Arithmetic 
pure  or  a  priori  sciences,  and  Mechanics  a  science  empirical,  or  a  postC' 
riori."^ — ^, 

Mr.  Stewart,  in  animadverting  upon  the  error  into  which  Dr.  Whewell 


24  rnrsiCAL  and  metaphysical  science. 

has  since  fallen,  lias  pointed  out  very  dearly  the  bias  of  mind  in  which  it 
has  its  origin.  "As  the  study  of  the  mechanical  philosophy,"  he  observes, 
"is,  in  a  great  measure,  inaccessible  to  those  who  have  not  received  a  regu- 
lar mathematical  education,  it  commonly  happens,  that  a  taste  for  it  is, 
in  the  first  instance,  grafted  on  a  previous  attachment  to  the  researches  of 
pure  or  abstract  mathematics.  Hence  a  natural  and  insensible  transfer- 
ence to  physical  pursuits,  of  mathematical  habits  of  thinking ;  and  hence 
an  almost  unavoidable  propensity  to  give  to  the  former  science  that  sys- 
tematical connection  in  all  its  various  conclusions  which,  fro^m  the  nature 
of  its  first  principles,  is  essential  to  the  latter,  but  which  can  never  belong 
to  any  science  which  has  its  foundations  laid  in  facts  collected  from  expe- 
rience and  observation," 

"  In  pure  geometry,  no  reference  to  the  senses  can  b6  admitted,  but  in 
the  way  of  illustration  ;  and  any  such  reference,  in  the  most  trilling  step 
of  a  demonstration,  vitiates  the  whole.  But  in  Natural  Philosophi/,  all 
our  reasonings  must  be  grounded  on  principles  for  which  no  evidence  but 
tliat  of  sense  can  be  obtained ;  and  the  propositions  which  we  establish, 
differ  from  each  other  only  as  they  are  deduced  from  such  principles  im- 
mediately, or  by  the  intervention  of  a  mathematical  demonstration.  An 
experimental  proof,  therefore,  of  any  particular  i:>hysical  truth,  when  it  can 
be  conveniently  obtained,  although  it  may  not  always  be  the  most  elegant 
or  the  most  expedient  way  of  introducing  it  to  the  knowledge  of  the  stu- 
dent, is  as  rigorous  and  as  satisfactory  as  any  other ;  for  the  intervention  of 
a  process  of  mathematical  reasoning  can  never  bestow  on  our  conclusions  a  greater 
degree  of  certainty  than  our  principles  possessed. 

"  I  have  been  led  to  enlarge  on  these  topics  by  that  unqualified  applica- 
tion of  mathematical  method  to  physics,  which  has  been  fashionable  for 
many  years  past  among  foreign  writers,  and  which  seems  to  have  origi- 
nated chiefly  in  the  commanding  influence  which  the  genius  and  learning 
of  Leibnitz  has  so  long  maintained  over  the  scientific  taste  of  most  Euro- 
pean nations.  I  have  [elsewhere]  taken  notice  of  some  other  inconven- 
iences resulting  from  it,  still  more  iifiportant  than  the  introduction  of  an 
unsound  logic  into  the  elements  of  Natural  Philosophi/ ;  in  particular,  of 
the  obvious  tendency  which  it  has  to  withdraw  the  attention  from  that  unity 
of  design,  which  it  is  the  noblest  employment  of  philosophy  to  illustrate, 
by  disguising  it  under  the  semblance  of  an  eternal  and  necessary  order, 
similar  to  what  the  mathematician  delights  to  trace  among  the  mutual  rela- 
tions of  quantities  and  figures.  The  consequence  has  been,  (in  too  many 
physical  systems,)  to  level  the  study  of  nature,  in  point  of  moral  interest, 
with  the  investigations  of  the  algebraist ;  —  an  effect,  too,  which  has  taken 
place  most  remarkably,  where,  from  the  sublimity  of  the  subject,  it  was 
least  to  be  expected,  —  in  the  application  of  the  mechanical  philosophy  to 
the  phenomena  of  the  heavens." 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  25 


CHAPTER   II. 

THIS    DISTINCTION    APPLIED  TO  PHILOSOPHY  AND  THEOLOGY. 

Summary  of  the  last  Chajjter.  —  In  the  last  chapter,  I  en- 
deavored to  define  and  distinguish  the  nature  and  scope  of 
physical  and  metaphysical  inquiry,  —  to  show  that  the  one  was 
properly  confined  to  matters  of  fact,  and  the  other  to  relations 
of  ideas.  Demonstrative  reasoning,  I  attempted  to  prove,  be- 
longs exclusively  to  the  latter,  and  its  conclusions  are  always 
abstract ;  the  truths  of  physical  science  are  obtained  only  by  the 
inductive  method,  by  observation  and  experiment,  and  by  gen- 
eralizations extending  from  individuals  to  a  class.  Yet  the 
former  method  has  no  superiority  over  the  latter,  when  con- 
sidered simply  as  a  foundation  of  belief.  Both  alike  command 
our  assent  on  indisputable  grounds,  though  the  media  of  proof 
are  radically  unlike.  Sensible  evidence  and  inductive  reason- 
ing, it  is  true,  admit  of  degrees,  and  lead  to  all  shades  of  belief, 
from  the  faintest  probability  up  to  what  is  called  moral  certainty. 
Demonstrative  reasoning,  on  the  other  hand,  has  no  degrees ;  a 
proposition  is  established  by  it  either  conclusively,  or  not  at  all. 
If  successful,  it  would  be  contradictory  and  absurd  to  deny  the 
conclusion,  the  proof  being  then  equivalent,  but  not  superior, 
to  that  which  in  the  former  case  renders  a  fact  morally  certain. 
To  adopt  Locke's  distinction  between  insanity  and  idiocy,  we 
might  say  that  only  a  madman  can  reject  a  mathematical  proof 
after  it  has  been  once  explained  to  him,  while  to  be  incapable 
of  governing  one's  conduct  by  that  sensible  evidence  which  con- 
trols the  actions  of  our  fellows,  is  simply  idiocy.  Such  a  f)er- 
son  is  usually  said  to  be  incapable  of  keeping  out  of  fire  and 
water,  because  he  is  not  able  to  learn  from  induction,  or  re- 
peated experiment,  that  the  former  will  burn  and  the  latter  will 
drown  him.     A  very  brief  glance  at  the  history  of  science  was 

3 


26  niiLOsoriiY  and  theology. 

intended  to  sliow,  that  most  of  the  mistakes,  retrogressions,  and 
absurdities  which  have  hindered  the  progress  of  it,  may  be 
traced  to  ignorance  or  forgetfuhiess  of  the  distinction  here 
pointed  out,  —  to  an  attempt  to  deduce  facts  from  abstract  con- 
ceptions, or  to  draw  down  pure  ideas  to  sensible  observation, 
and  material  tests,  —  to  calling  for  demonstration  in  physics,  or 
following  the  guidance  of  the  senses  only  in  metaphysical  in- 
vestigations. Illustrations  of  this  error  might  easily  be  multi- 
plied from  the  whole  domain  of  science  and  speculation,  not  less 
numerous  and  apt  in  our  own  day,  perhaps,  than  they  were 
amono:  the  ancients  or  in  the  times  of  the  schoolmen ;  but  less 
conspicuous,  affecting  a  smaller  class  of  minds,  and  therefore  less 
likely,  we  may  hope,  to  be  chronicled  for  the  mingled  amuse- 
ment and  pity  of  future  generations.  They  are  now  the  follies 
of  a  sect,  a  party,  or  a  clique,  —  usually  a  small  one  ;  while  in 
former  days,  they  were  the  indications  of  a  universal  evil,  pro- 
ceeding from  ill-formed  habits  of  thought,  and  offering  a  far-ex- 
tended and  almost  insuperable  barrier  to  the  progress  of  knowl- 
edge. 

Nature  and  Object  of  Philosophy,  or  Metaphysical  Science.  — 
Leaving  the  task  of  mere  illustration,  then,  I  j)roceed  to  inquire 
how  far  the  distinction  now  pointed  out  may  be  made  available 
for  one  great  purpose  of  this  work,  —  to  determine  clearly  the 
respective  limits  of  Religion  and  Philosophy.  It  is  obvious  that 
the  latter  term,  w^iich  is  often  applied  very  generally  to  the 
pursuit  of  all  knowledge,  must  here  be  used  in  a  restricted 
sense,  and  be  made  synonymous,  in  fact,  with  metaphysics.  It 
cannot  be  defined  more  clearly,  w^ithout  a  tedious  enumeration 
of  all  the  questions  and  problems  which  it  comprehends.  It  is 
concerned  with  the  origin  and  explication  of  our  ideas  of  cause, 
power,  infinity,  knowledge,  freewill,  identity,  substance,  and  the 
like,  all  of  which  are  pure  abstractions,  so  that  we  must  reason 
about  them  demonstratively,  or  not  at  aU.  Philosophy,  in  this 
narrow  meaning  of  the  w^ord,  includes  precisely  that  class  of 
subjects  w^liich  Milton  assigned  for  contemplation  to  one  band 
of  the  spirits  fallen  from  heaven,  who,  in  their  place  of  punish- 
ment, 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  27 

"  apart  sat  on  a  hill  retired, 
In  thoughts  more  elevate,  and  reasoned  high 
Of  providence,  foreknowledge,  w^ill,  and  fate, 
Fixed  fate,  freewill,  foreknowledge  absolute, 
And  found  no  end,  in  wandering  mazes  lost." 

All  science  proceeds  from  one  generalization  to  another,  and 
must  therefore  end  at  a  point,  in  a  science  that  surveys  the 
basis  of  all  the  others,  determines  their  proper  relations,  and 
binds  the  whole  into  one  orderly  system  of  knowledge.  This 
seems  to  have  been  Lord  Bacon's  conception  of  the  matter, 
when,  in  his  general  scheme  of  knowledge,  he  says,  "  The  basis 
is  Natural  History,  the  stage  next  the  basis  is  Physics,  the 
stage  next  the  vertical  point  is  Metaphysics."  To  examine  in 
turn  all  the  questions  with  which  metaphysical  philosophy  is 
conversant,  so  as  to  exhibit  their  abstract  character,  would  be  a 
long,  and,  it  may  be,  an  unprofitable  undertaking.  I  shall  not 
attempt  it,  as  the  fact,  perhaps,  is  apparent  enough  from  a  mere 
enumeration  of  the  subjects,  and  because  all  of  them  which  are 
immediately  connected  with  my  principal  theme  will  come  up 
for  subsequent  consideration.  It  will  be  enough  for  the  present 
briefly  to  allude  to  a  few  of  them,  the  purely  ideal  character  of 
which  may  perhaps  be  questioned  by  some  persons. 

Metaphysics  distinguished  from  Psychology.  —  And  here  a 
distinction  is  to  be  made,  as  one  portion  of  what  is  usually 
called  the  Philosophy  of  Mind  is  certainly  occupied  with  mat- 
ters of  fact,  and  comes  within  the  province  of  inductive  reason- 
ing. Psychology  is  the  latest  designation  in  use,  and  perhaps 
the  most  convenient  one,  for  that  science  which  bears  the  same 
relation  to  mind,  that  Anatomy  and  Physiology  do  to  our  corpo- 
real nature.  Certainly  there  are  facts  of  consciousness,  no  less 
than  those  which  are  evident  to  sense ;  the  human  mind,  to  a 
certain  extent,  is  a  subject  of  observation  and  experiment,  as  the 
eupposed  seat  or  origin  of  various  phenomena,  that  admit  of 
number,  arrangement,  and  classification.  These  phenomena, 
again,  are  not  produced  fortuitously,  or  at  random,  but  are  sub- 
ject to  fixed  laws,  more  or  less  obvious,  that  may  be  definitely 
expressed.    I  need  only  refer  to  the  great  laws  of  association, 


28  rillLOSOl'UY    AND    XnEOLOGY. 

or  suggestion,  which  every  one  has  occasion  to  observe  who 
seeks  to  call  up  subjects  that  are  related  to  each  other,  or  to 
discipline  his  memory.  The  phenomena  of  mind,  also,  are  often 
complex,  and  need  to  be  analyzed  and  reduced  to  their  simplest 
elements.  Imagination,  for  instance,  is  a  compound  faculty, 
embracing  simple  suggestion,  conception,  or  the  picturing  forth 
of  an  object,  abstraction,  and  the  power  of  forming  novel  com- 
binations from  the  elements  thus  obtained. 

I  speak  of  this  science  as  confined  entirely  to  mind,  without 
forgetting  that  one  important  point  in  it  is  the  question,  whether 
there  be  any  such  separate  existence  as  mind  distinct  from 
matter.  If  this  question  be  determined  in  the  negative,  it  would 
appear,  at  first  sight,  that  no  division  can  be  made,  —  that  there 
is  no  room  for  any  science  separate  from  that  which  treats  of 
the  laws  and  properties  of  bodies.  Yet  the  subject  is  not  really 
affected  by  the  determination  of  this  doubt.  Every  one  is  con- 
scious of  thinking,  reasoning,  ivilling,  —  oi  pleasure,  love,  and 
hatred;  and  these  qualities  or  phenomena  are  wholly  unlike 
hdk,  Jigure,  extension,  and  other  qualities  usually  attributed  to 
matter.  Now  we  do  not  need  to  assume,  in  the  outset,  that 
there  is  a  separate  existence,  or  entity,  in  which  the  first  class 
of  these  attributes  inhere.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  two  sets 
of  phenomena  are  perfectly  distinct  from  each  other ;  there  is 
no  danger  of  confounding  them.  Avoiding  all  hypotheses  and 
mooted  questions,  therefore,  it  may  be  said  that  psychology^^ 
treating  of  those  facts  which  we  learn  from  consciousness,  is  a 
branch  of  physiccd  science,  the  other  subdivisions  of  which  relate 
to  those  facts  which  come  to  our  knowledge  through  the  senses. 

Metaphysics  treats  exclusively  of  the  relations  of  ideas.  —  But 
it  is  certainly  no  part  of  psychological  inquiry  to  seek  after  the 
origin  of  our  notion  of  cause,  or  to  analyze  our  idea  of  infinity. 
Observation  cannot  aid  us  here.  In  the  external  world,  and 
in  the  succession  of  our  thoughts,  we  w^itness  only  events  or 
changes  ;  we  observe  only  sequences  of  phenomena ;  and  to 
bind  together  the  two  terms  of  a  sequence  in  the  relation  of 
cause  and  effect  is  the  work  of  pure  reason,  unaided  by  the  per- 
ceptive faculty.     So,  also,  whatever  we  observe,  whether  in 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  29 

external  nature  or  in  the  world  within  us,  is  finite,  limited,  and 
contingent ;  the  idea  of  infinity  is  superadded  by  reason,  tran- 
scending tlie  sphere  of  sense  and  reflection,  and  baffling  even 
the  power  of  the  imagination  to  seize  or  comprehend  it.  Our 
ideas,  moreover,  of  sjxice  and  time  are  abstract  conceptions, 
which  rise,  indeed,  on  occasion  of  experience,  but  caniiot  be 
deiduced  from  experience,  nor  explained  by  its  teachings.  „  To 
speculate  on  these  things  is  the  work  of  metaphysical  'philosophy 
properly  so  called,  —  of  that  science  which  goes  beyond  facts  to 
principles,  which  begins  from  intuitions  and  ends  in  demonstr^- 
dve„certamty. 

T7ie  scope  and  purpose  of  Ontology  explained.  —  It  may  be 
said,  however,  that  metaphysical  inquiries  are  not  concerned 
exclusively  with  relations  of  ideas,  since  Ontology,  which  is  an 
important  and  the  most  abstruse  branch  of  this  science,  relates 
avowedly,  and  as  its  name  imports,  to  real  entities,  which  are 
conceived  to  exist  out  of  the  mind,  or  independently  of  thought. 
I  answer,  that  the  realities  which  are  the  objects  of  ontological 
inquiry  are  few  in  number,  and,  though  supposed  to  exist  out  of 
the  mind,  they  are  known  to  us  only  as  abstract  conceptions ; 
and  the  sole  purpose  of  Ontology,  the  only  problem  which  it 
attempts  to  resolve,  is  the  question  whether  they  are  realities  or 
not.  This  point  cannot  be  ascertained  by  observation  and  ex- 
periment, which  are  the  great  instruments  of  physical  inquiry ; 
it  can  be  determined  only  by  studying  the  relations  of  our  ideas. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  idea  of  material  substance,  which  we 
conceive  of  only  as  the  unknown  something  that  supports  and 
manifests  certain  qualitieSy  even  these  qualities  being  known  to 
us  only  as  the  hidden  causes  of  certain  sensations,  or  states  of 
mind ;  and  this  idea,  these  states  of  mind,  are  the  only  media 
the  study  of  which  can  furnish  an  answer  to  the  question  as  to 
the  reality  of  this  substance.  Aristotle  calls  this  substance  "  the 
primary  matter,"  to  distinguish  it  from  the  secondary  forms  of 
matter,  that  are  the  only  objects  of  which  we  take  cognizance 
through  the  senses.  "  The  primary  matter,"  he  says,  "  is  that 
without  which  nothing  could  formally  exist.  It  is  neither  earth, 
nor  air,  nor  fire,  nor  water.     It  is  neither  hot,  nor  cold,  nor  dry, 

3* 


30  rniLOsoriiv  and  theology. 

nor  moist,  nor  solid,  nor  extended.  It  is  the  universal  element, 
but  can  never  become  objective  to  sense."  IIow,  then,  can  we 
obtain  a  view  of  this  elementary  being  ?  "  ^Ve  gain  a  glimpse 
of  it,"  says  the  learned  author  of  Philosophical  Arrangements, 
"  hy  abstractioji,  when  we  say  that  the  first  matter  is  not  the 
lineaments  and  complexion,  which  make  the  beautiful  face ;  nor 
yet  the  flesh  and  blood,  which  make  those  lineaments  and  that 
complexion ;  nor  yet  the  liquid  and  solid  aliments,  which  make 
that  flesh  and  blood ;  nor  yet  the  simple  bodies  of  earth  and 
water,  which  make  those  various  aliments  ;  but  something  which, 
being  below  all  these,  and  supporting  them  all,  is  yet  different 
from  them  all,  and  essential  to  their  existence."  Certainly,  this 
idea  is  a  pure  ahstraction,  quite  as  much  so  as  the  infinitesimal 
quantities  of  the  algebraist;  and  though  reality  may  be  predi- 
cated of  it,  if  we  believe  in  its  existence,  it  is  only  in  the  same 
8ense  in  which  quantities  infinitely  small  may  be  said  actually 
to  exist  anywhere  in  measurable  extension. 

Instances  of  the  corruption  of  physical  science  hy  metaphysical 
ideas.  —  And  here,  it  may  be  observed  in  passing,  we  have  an 
illustration  of  the  radically  vicious  method  in  which  the  ancients 
undertook  the  study  of  nature ;  omitting  altogether  the  observa- 
tion of  particular  facts,  and  seeking  to  deduce  from  grand  but 
vague  abstractions,  like  this  of  "  the  primary  matter,"  the  indi- 
vidual truths  which  they  disdained  to  collect  from  patient  induc- 
tion. It  was  as  if  a  botanist  should  attempt  to  evolve  by  medi- 
tation the  grand  archetypal  idea  of  a  plant,  from  which  to 
deduce,  by  logical  analysis  and  strict  demonstrative  reasoning, 
tbe  several  forms  which  all  existing  plants  must  assume.  We 
ought  not  rashly  to  infer  that  there  is  no  longer  any  danger  of 
committing  flagrant  mistakes  like  this  in  the  pursuit  of  knowl- 
edge. Error  tends  to  come  round  in  cycles ;  and  the  reaction 
against  the  Baconian  method,  to  which  I  alluded  in  the  last 
chapter,  has  given  some  currency  to  speculations  in  natural 
science  which  seem  the  legitimate  descendants  of  the  reveries 
of  the  schoolmen.  Take,  for  instance,  the  infant  science  of 
Morphology,  applied  to  animals  by  Geoffroy  St.  Hilaire,  and  to 
plants  by  Goethe,  and  which  has  recently  been  made  popular, 


PHlLOSOrHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  31 

at  least  in  some  of  its  applications,  by  the  author  of  the  "  Ves- 
tiges of  Creation."  According  to  this  speculation,  "  plants  and 
animals,  in  the  process  of  growing  up  from  their  germs,  have  a 
tendency  to  develop  themselves  in  a  much  more  uniform  man- 
ner than  they  in  fact  do ;  and  the  differences  —  for  example,  of 
leaf,  flower,  and  fruit  —  are  mere  modifications  of  one  general 
phenomenon."  The  theory  assumes,  that  the  type,  or  grand 
purpose  of  nature,  though  constantly  struggling  to  manifest  it- 
self, is  realized  only  in  a  few  cases,  which  are  admitted  mon- 
strosities, the  system  resting  on  thffese,  and  the  induction  from  a 
few  anomalous  instances  4hus  overriding  the  conclusion  derived 
from  the  great  majority  of  cases.  The  doctrine  naturally  suc- 
ceeds, that  all  the  races  of  animals  tend,  as  it  were,  to  pass  into 
each  other,  in  their  progress  to  or  from  the  typical  creature, 
which  forms  either  the  commencement  or  the  end  of  the  scale. 
The  distinctions  of  species  thus  disappear,  races  cease  to  be  per- 
manent, and  man  acknowledges  fraternity,  or  a  common  pedi- 
gree, with  the  reptile  and  the  brute.  A  purely  speculative 
notion  is  here  superinduced  upon  the  inductions  of  experience, 
though  a  lingering  respect  is  still  manifested  for  the  Baconian 
method,  the  theory  being  defended  by  a  spurious  induction  from 
a  few  monstrosities.  And  this  view  we  are  invited  to  entertain 
as  a  substitute  for  the  doctrine  of  final  causes  !  * 

The  question,  tohether  the  external  world  exists,  is  virtually 
metaphysical.  —  But  this  is  a  digression ;  I  return  to  the  only 
other  question  in  metaphysical  science  which  it  is  necessary  to 
consider  here,  as  a  seeming  exception  to  the  doctrine  that  this 
science  is  concerned  exclusively  with  the  relations  of  abstract 
ideas.  I  refer  now  to  the  discussion  respecting  the  real  exist- 
ence of  the  external  ivorld,  a  question  distinct  in  some  respects 
from  the  one  already  noticed  respecting  the  abstract  conception 
of  material  substance.  And  here  a  distinction  is  to  be  made 
between  the  popular  belief  and  the  philosophical  doctrine,  or 


*  Schiller  made  the  best  criticism  upon  this  theory,  when  it  was  first 
explained  to  him  by  Goethe,  who  was  one  of  its  earliest  advocates,  if  not 
its  inventor.     "  This,"  said  Schiller,  "  is  not  an  observation,  but  an  idea." 


82  niiLOSoniY  and  theology. 

rather  between  the  causes  that  actually  create  our  assent  to  the 
proposition,  and  the  reasons  by  which,  when  subsequently  called 
upon,  ive  undertake  to  justify  that  assent.  Certainly,  to  all 
minds  not  yet  accustomed  to  philosophical  inquiries,  the  exist- 
ence of  an  external  world  is  a  fact,  and,  as  such,  is  learned  by 
induction.  There  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt,  I  think,  that  the 
sensations  of  an  infant  are  not  accompanied  by  what  we  call 
perception;  that  they  are  not  referred  by  it  to  an  external 
cause ;  that  they  give  it  no  information  at  first  respecting  out- 
ward realities,  but  are  to  it  merely  so  many  sources  of  pleasure 
or  pain.  By  a  gradual  process,  that  is,  by  induction,  finding  that 
the  sensations  recur  in  a  fixed  order  under  given  circumstances, 
that  they  are  wholly  independent  of  the  will,  that  muscular  ex- 
ertion can  sometimes  be  made  without  restraint,  and  at  others, 
is  checked  or  resisted  by  a  foreign  obstacle,  the  infant  mind 
comes  at  last  to  a  conception  of  outward  things,  or  of  existences 
foreign  to  itself. 

Whether  this  induction  is  so  complete,  that  we  can  consider 
the  independent  existence  of  brute  matter  as  proved  by  it,  is 
another  question.  It  does  prove,  that  there  must  be  some  cause 
of  these  sensations,  which  cause  is  foreign  to  our  own  minds ; 
and  this  is  enough  to  disprove  the  monstrous  idealism  of  Fichte, 
that  we  create  every  thing  from  ourselves,  though  the  doctrine 
of  Berkeley  remains  quite  as  plausible  as  the  vulgar  belief,  and 
rests,  perhaps,  on  a  more  philosophical  basis.  Those  who  ridi- 
cule it,  it  is  safe  to  say,  do  so  from  ignorance  of  its  true  charac- 
ter ;  and  this  remark  will  apply  even  to  the  great  English  mor- 
alist, who,  when  teased  by  his  biographer  about  this  doctrine, 
undertook  to  decide  the  case  in  his  own  peculiar  manner.  "  I 
never  shall  forget,"  says  Boswell,  "  the  alacrity  with  which  Dr. 
Johnson  answered,  striking  his  foot  with  mighty  force  against  a 
large  stone,  till  he  rebounded  from  it,  —  'I  refute  it  thus.'" 
The  argument  implied  in  this  act  proves  nothing  but  the  es- 
sential shallowness  of  Johnsonian  dogmatism  ;  for  it  is  an  appeal 
to  facts,  to  sensible  evidence,  to  settle  an  abstract  philosophical 
question.  As  mooted  by  philosophers,  this  question  refers  to 
the  objective  validity  of  our  abstract  idea  of  outward  things,  and 


rniLOSOPIIY    AND    THEOLOGY.  33 

as  such  it  must  be  settled,  if  at  all,  by  metaphysical  reasons  ; 
and  he  who  brings  into  this  discussion  the  testimony  of  the 
senses,  acts  quite  as  absurdly  as  a  metaphysician  would  do,  who, 
by  his  abstract  speculations,  should  undertake  to  confound  a 
common  man's  belief  in  the  reality  of  things  about  him.*  Here, 
as  everywhere  else,  the  physical  fact  rests  upon  its  appropriate 
inductive  evidence ;  while  the  philosophical  question  must  be 
treated  philosophically,  or  by  metaphysical  considerations.  The 
speculative  attempts,  extended,  modified,  and  perpetually  recur- 
ring through  the  whole  history  of  philosophy,  to  demonstrate  the 
independent  existence  of  matter,  have  left  the  question  precisely 
where  it  was,  —  have  created  nothing  but  an  interminable 
logomachy,  or  war  of  words,  between  the  realists  and  the  ideal- 
ists. .  The  result  of  this  warfare  was  pithily  summed  up  by  Dr. 
Brown,  when  speaking  of  the  two  great  champions  in  Scotland 
of  the  opposite  doctrines  on  this  subject :  "  Reid  bawled  out, 
'  We  must  believe  in  an  external  world,'  but  added  in  a  whisper, 
'  I  own  we  can  give  no  reason  for  this  belief; '  Hume  cried  out, 
'  We  cannot  prove  the  existence  of  matter,'  but  he  whispered, 
'  I  confess  we  cannot  help  believing  it.'  "  f 


*  The  idealist  doubts  not  the  reality  of  ideas  and  sensations,  as  such. 
Nature  exists  for  him  also,  but  only  in  his  own  mind.  Pie  fully  believes 
the  uniformity  of  her  laws,  —  that  like  causes  will  produce  like  effects. 
He  is  confident,  for  instance,  that  the  idea  of  falling  from  a  precipice  will 
be  followed  by  the  idea  of  exquisite  pain  ;  and  if  he  has  common  sense,  he 
will  avoid  those  volitions  which,  as  constant  experience  has  taught  him, 
will  lead  to  its  occuiTcnce.  He  does  not,  it  is  true,  fear  the  fracture  of  a 
bone  ;  for  he  thinks  there  are  no  bones  to  break.  But  he  dreads  the  con- 
ception of  such  an  injury,  and  the  pain  which  must  attend  such  a  concep- 
tion. Since  we  are  no  further  interested  in  our  bodily  frame  than  as  it  is 
a  source  of  pleasure  or  pain,  and  as  these  feelings  belo'ng,  not  to  matter, 
but  to  mind,  the  idealist  is  no  more  chargeable  with  inconsistency  than 
one  who  attempts  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of  a  painful  dream. 

t  The  question  about  the  reality  of  the  external  world  is  very  fairly 
stated  by  Prof.  De  Morgan,  in  the  second  chapter  of  his  "  Formal  Logic." 

"  That  our  minds,  souls,  or  thinking  powers,  (use  what  name  we  may,) 
exist,  is  the  thing  of  all  others  of  which  we  are  most  certain,  each  for 
himself.  Next  to  this,  nothing  can  be  more  certain  to  us,  each  for  himself, 
than  that  other  things  also  exist ;  —  other  minds,     ur  ov,-n  bodies,  the 


84  niiLOSorHY  and  theology. 

Nature  and  logic  of  religious  belief.  —  Enough  has  been  said 
to  show  tlie  true  purpose  of  metaphysical  philosophy,  the  nature 
of  the  subjects  with  which  it  is  conversant,  the  kind  of  reason- 
ing employed,  and  the  proper  limits  of  the  discussion.  Let  us 
pass  on,  then,  to  a  precisely  similar  inquiry  respecting  religion. 
What  is  the  nature  of  religious  belief,  properly  so  called  ?  and 


whole  world  of  matter.  But  between  the  character  of  these  two  certainties, 
there  is  a  vast  difference.  Any  one  wlio  should  deny  his  own  existence, 
would,  if  serious,  be  held  beneath  argument ;  he  does  not  know  the  mean- 
ing of  his  words,  or  he  is  false  or  mad.  But  if  the  same  man  should  deny 
that  any  thing  exists  except  himself,  that  is,  if  he  should  aflBrm  the  whole 
creation  to  be  a  dream  of  his  own  mind,  he  would  be  absolutely  unanswer- 
able. If  I,  (who  know  he  is  wrong,  for  /am  certain  of  my  own  existence,) 
argue  with  him,  and  reduce  him  to  silence,  it  is  no  more  than  might  hap- 
pen in  his  dream.  (It  is  not  impossible  that,  in  a  real  dream  of  sleep, 
some  one  may  have  created  an  antagonist  who  beat  him  in  an  argument 
to  prove  that  he  was  awake.)  A  celebrated  metaphysician,  Berkeley, 
maintained  that,  with  regard  to  matter,  the  above  is  the  state  of  the  case ; 
that  om-  impressions  of  matter  are  only  impressions,  communicated  by  the 
Creator  without  any  intervening  cause  of  communication. 

"  Our  most  convincing  communicable  proof  of  the  existence  of  other 
things,  is,  not  the  appearance  of  objects,  but  the  necessity  of  admitting 
that  there  are  other  minds  besides  our  own.  The  external  inanimate  ob- 
jects might  be  creations  of  our  own  thoughts,  or  thinking  and  percep- 
tive function ;  they  are  so  sometimes,  as  in  the  case  of  insanity,  in  Avhich 
the  mind  has  frequently  the  appearance  of  making  the  whole  or  part  of  its 
own  external  world.  But  when  we  see  other  beings,  performing  similar 
functions  to  those  which  we  ourselves  perform,  we  come  so  iiTCsistibly  to 
the  conclusion  that  there  must  be  other  sentients  like  ourselves,  that  we 
should  rather  compare  a  person  who  doubted  it  to  one  who  denied  his 
own  existence,  than  to  one  who  simply  denied  the  real  external  existence 
of  the  material  world. 

"  When  once  we  have  admitted  different  and  independent  minds,  the 
reality  of  external  objects  (external  to  all  those  minds)  follows  as  of  course. 
For  different  minds  receive  impressions  at  the  same  time,  which  their 
power  of  communication  enables  them  to  know  are  similar,  so  far  as  any 
impressions,  one  in  each  of  two  different  minds,  can  be  known  to  be  sim- 
ilar. There  must  be  a  somewhat  independent  of  those  minds,  which  thus 
acts  upon  them  all  at  once,  and  without  any  choice  of  their  own.  This 
someivhat  is  what  we  call  an  external  object ;  and  whether  it  arise  in 
Berkeley's  mode,  or  in  any  other,  matters  nothing  to  us  here." 


PHILOSOPHY    AND    THEOLOGT.  35 

by  what  kind  of  testimony  is  it  supported  ?  Are  we  here  con- 
cerned with  reahties,  or  with  abstract  speculations  ?  and  do  we 
look  to  demonstration,  or  to  moral  certainty,  as  the  result  of  the 
inquiry  ?  The  question  is  not  yet,  be  it  observed,  whether  the 
belief  is  legitimate,  or  the  testimony  sufficient ;  of  that,  here- 
after. I  do  not  now  ask  whether  religion  be  true,  but  how  we 
fire  to  prove  or  to  disprove  it ;  what  arguments  are  to  be  admit- 
ted into  the  discussion,  and  what  considerations  shut  out  as 
iiTclevant.  I  use  the  word  religion  here  in  its  most  compre- 
hensive sense,  including  both  theology,  as  a  system  of  doctrines 
and  principles,  and  practical  piety. 

The  being  of  a  God  is  a  fact.  —  The  central  truth  of  religion, 
on  which  all  its  other  doctrines  and  its  practice  depend,  is  the 
being  of  a  God.  Is  there,  in  very  truth,  a  creating  and  sustain- 
ing Deity,  or  is  this  universe  an  orphan,  and  we,  most  miser- 
able, but  accidental  formations  from  the  clod,  living  only  to  con- 
sume life,  relying  on  no  support  but  our  own  strength,  and  look- 
ing forward  to  painless  extinction  as  the  happiest  possible  termi- 
nation of  our  short  and  troubled  career?  Surely,  we  are  able 
to  say,  that  the  Divine  existence,  if  proved,  is  a  fact,  and  the 
most  momentous  of  all  facts ;  it  is  at  once  the  most  consoling 
and  the  most  awful  of  all  realities.  I  do  not  forget  that  the 
name  of  the  Supreme  Being  is  often  vaguely  used ;  because  it  is 
said  that  his  existence  is  a  mystery,  and  his  essence  is  unknown, 
for  the  finite  creature  cannot  comprehend  the  Infinite.  So 
neither  can  we  comprehend  ourselves ;  our  own  existence  is  a 
mystery,  and  we  are  surrounded  with  problems  that  we  cannot 
solve.  The  lowest  and  the  highest  manifestation  of  life  is  alike 
a  secret  that  baffles  the  most  cunning  researches  of  science ;  we 
can  describe,  meagrely  and  imperfectly,  it  is  true,  but  we  cannot 
explain  it.  If  no  knowledge  is  admissible,  or  deserves  its  name, 
except  it  be  perfect,  then  indeed  we  are  doomed  to  hopeless  and 
perpetual  ignorance.  In  this  respect,  the  grand  dogma  of  the 
being  of  a  God  is  on  a  par  with  the  simplest  fact  of  physiology, 
or  with  a  belief  in  the  actual  existence  of  any  fellow-mortal 
whom  we  have  never  seen. 

Different  conceptions  of  a  Deity .  —  But  I  go  much  further; 


3G  rniLOSOPHY  and  theology. 

considered  as  a  tnitli  of  relij^ion,  the  bciii":  of  a  God  is  a  suffi- 
ciently  delinite  and  intelligible  fact,  to  enable  us  to  pronounce  at 
once  on  the  general  character  of  the  evidence  by  which,  if  at 
all,  it  must  be  proved.  If  we  discard  all  notion  of  an  overruling 
Providence,  and  adopt  only  the  Epicurean  idea  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  as  one  sitting  apart  from  his  works,  and  allowing  them 
to  go  on  without  interference,  oversight,  or  regard,  then  indeed 
the  question  concerning  the  reality  of  such  an  existence  is  one 
of  pure  curiosity,  to  be  ranked  with  other  problems  in  science, 
as  a  matter  of  no  immediate  interest  except  to  the  student.  We 
may  sublimate  that  existence  into  an  abstract  conception,  or  iden- 
tify it  with  material  nature  ;  and  as  either  alternative  is  adopted, 
we  may  attempt  to  support  it  by  physical  or  metaphysical  rea- 
soning. But  the  religious  aspect  of  the  subject  compels  us  to 
bring  down  the  question  to  the  actual  existence  of  a  Moral  Gov- 
ernor of  the  world.  We  care  not  whether  the  dogma,  considered 
simply  as  a  fact  or  a  proposition  in  science,  be  established  or  re- 
futed. Our  only  interest  in  the  matter,  looking  at  it  not  as 
philosophers,  nor  as  students  of  science,  but  as  men,  arises  from 
the  influence  which  the  fact,  if  proved,  will  have  upon  our  con- 
duct and  the  regulation  of  our  hearts  and  lives.  The  question 
does  not  affect  us,  unless  it  be  understood  to  relate  to  the  being 
of  a  personal  God,  the  Creator  of  heaven  and  earth,  really  distinct 
from  nature,  though  pervading  it  with  his  presence,  all-wise  and 
all-powerful,  the  conscious  Cause  and  present  Ruler  of  all  things. 
I  am  not  taking  these  attributes  for  granted,  but  simply  stating 
the  question,  —  the  only  question  which,  as  moral  beings,  we  are 
concerned  to  answer.  Whatever  might  be  made  of  the  philo- 
sophical conception  of  a  Deity,  or  however  curious  and  interest- 
ing to  the  merely  rational  mind  might  be  the  solution  of  the 
problem  respecting  the  mode  of  his  existence,  or  the  reconcile- 
ment of  his  attributes  with  each  other,  it  does  not  affect  us,  con- 
sidered simply  as  seekers  after  religious  truth,  or  as  endeavoring 
to  satisfy  the  longings  of  that  religious  sentiment  which,  like  the 
desire  for  society,  or  the  domestic  affections,  or  the  inherent 
love  of  right,  I  firmly  believe  to  be  a  constituent  and  ineradi- 
cable principle  of  human  nature.     The  proper  object  of  that 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  37 

sentiment  is  a  person^  a  moral  being ;  its  natural  and  even  irre- 
sistible expression  is  in  worship  and  prayer.  We  must  seek  to 
gratify  it,  then,  just  as  we  might  attempt,  if  suffering  under  a 
sense  of  loneliness,  to  appease  our  social  cravings ;  —  first,  to 
ascertain  the  fact  that  a  companion  can  be  found,  and  then  to 
draw  near  to  him  in  that  spirit  of  loving  trust,  and,  if  necessary, 
of  self-sacrifice,  which  will  be  sure  to  make  him,  when  found, 
our  friend. 

Demonstrative  evidence  not  applicable  in  this  inquiry.  —  "We 
cannot,  then,  demonstrate  the  existence  of  a  God.  If  there  is  any 
force  in  the  considerations  which  I  have  tried  to  lay  before  you, 
this  admission  is  not  an  alarming  one.  We  do  not  here  attempt 
to  weigh  the  abstract  argument  for  this  end,  and  pronounce  it  to 
be  weak  or  insufiicient ;  opinions  might  differ  on  this  point ;  we 
put  it  aside  altogether,  as  illogical  and  irrelevant.  It  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  matter  in  hand.  We  reject  it  for  the  same  rea- 
son that  an  historian  would  reject,  as  an  idle  exercise  of  ingenu- 
ity, an  attempt,  made  without  any  reference  to  the  testimony  of 
persons,  books,  or  monuments,  to  prove,  from  abstract  concep- 
tions and  the  laws  of  the  human  mind,  that  a  great  battle  must 
have  been  fought  nearly  twenty-five  hundred  years  ago  on  the 
plains  of  Marathon,  and  that  the  Grecian  forces  in  this  battle 
must  have  been  commanded  by  a  general  called  Miltiades.  We 
say  that  metaphysical  reasoning  is  inapplicable  here,  on  the  same 
principle  on  which  the  chemist,  when  about  to  investigate  the 
affinities  of  a  newly  discovered  substance,  would  refuse  to  sub- 
stitute pure  mathematical  analysis  for  the  logic  of  the  crucible, 
the  scales,  and  the  blowpipe.  He  would  say,  that  the  former 
mode  of  investigation  was  precluded  by  the  nature  of  the  case ; 
and  as  the  selection  of  .the  proper  means  of  research  is  a  ques- 
tion of  pure  logic,  which  is  itself  one  of  the  metaphysical  sci- 
ences, it  would  not  be  going  too  far  for  him  to  assert,  that  he 
could  demonstrate  the  inapplicahility  of  demonstration. 

Why  we  seek  to  exclude  metaphysical  reasoning.  —  It  may  be 
asked,  why  I  have  taken  so  much  pains  with  this  preliminary 
matter,  which  is  merely  the  logic  of  natural  theology.  Why 
seek  to  strike  out  abstract  reasoning,  and  to  bring  the  question 

4 


38  rniLOSOPiiY  and  theologt. 

down  to  the  limits  and  principles  of  the  inductive  method,  so 
that  our  reseai'ches  may  be  governed  by  the  rules  of  physical 
inquiry  ?  Unquestionably,  every  sincere  believer  would  be  glad 
to  accept  a  demonstration  of  the  truths  of  religion,  if  it  could  be 
had  ;  why  endeaTor  to  cut  him  oflf  even  from  the  hope  of  a  pos- 
sible future  enlargement,  in  this  way,  of  the  grounds  of  his 
faith  ? 

I  answer,  ^r5^,  that  it  is  of  great  importance  so  to  arrange 
tlie  system  of  our  belief,  that  proofs  of  the  same  general  char- 
acter may  be  classed  together,  and  the  relative  strength  of  dif- 
ferent arguments  may  be  clearly  ascertained.  They  lose  their 
proper  weight  in  our  estimation,  if  brought  to  a  false  standard, 
or  tried  by  an  insufficient  test.  A  pretended  demonstration  of  a 
matter  of  fact,  if  compared  with  the  reasoning  of  Euclid  or  La- 
place, must  appear,  I  do  not  saj  feeble,  but  illogical  and  false  ; 
and  the  failure  of  a  favorite  argument  is  very  likely  to  draw 
down  with  it,  in  the  mind  of  the  inquirer,  all  faith  in  the  doc- 
trine itself,  its  other  supports  being  then  disregarded  or'held  in 
light  esteem.  I  would  save  the  earnest  seeker  after  truth  from 
the  anguish  of  disappointment,  in  looking  after  what  cannot  be 
found,  and  thereby  enable  him  duly  to  appreciate  the  strength 
of  the  proofs  within  his  reach.  There  can  be  no  fears  for  the 
strength  of  our  religious  faith,  if  it  stands  upon  the  same  plat- 
form with  the  whole  round  of  the  physical  sciences,  so  that  no 
assault  can  reach  even  its  outworks  until  the  entire  fabric  of 
these  sciences  shall  be  demolished,  and  ii  be  made  to  appear 
that  all  the  boasted  attainments  of  the  last  three  centuries  in 
the  study  of  nature  have  been  unprofitable  and  vain.. 

Kind  and  degree  of  the  theological  proof  —  The  theologi- 
cal argument  is  of  the  same  kind  with  that  which  supports  the 
conclusions  of  the  physical  inquirer;  but  it  is  superior,  im- 
measurably superior,  in  degree.  The  proofs  of  design,  for 
instance,  which  form  the  basis  of  one  portion  of  this  argument, 
are  numerous  beyond  calculation.  They  are  dilBTused  every- 
where, —  above,  around,  and  within  us.  They  are  not  drawn 
only  from  a  few  scratches  on  mountains  of  rock,  or  from  fossil 
remains  here  and  there  dug  up  from  the  earth,  put  together  with 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  39 

slow  toil,  and  their  history  with  difficulty  spelt  out.  They  do 
not  rest  on  a  few  experiments  carefully  devised  and  with  great 
labor  repeated.  The  study  of  years  is  not  required  before  their 
import  can  be  made  known  even  to  a  few,  while  the  bulk  of 
mankind  must  ever  remain  ignorant  of  the  doctrine,  or  receive 
it  on  trust.  These  are  difficulties  with  which  the  geologist,  the 
chemist,  the  astronomer,  must  contend.  But  the  marks  of  contriv- 
ance that  form  the  language  in  which  the  sublime  dogma  of  God's 
existence  is  written  out  fill  the  earth  and  skies,  and  are  open 
alike  to  the  most  elevated  and  the  meanest  capacity.  They  are 
equally  obvious  in  the  structure  of  every  blade  of  grass,  and  in 
the  mechanism  of  the  heavens.  They  exist  alike  in  the  object 
perceived,  and  in  the  percipient  mind  ;  in  the  hand  that  fashions, 
the  ear  that  hears,  and  the  lungs  that  breathe.  They  are  found 
in  the  bones  of  extinct  races,  and  in  the  habits  of  all  living 
things ;  in  the  skeleton  of  the  mammoth,  and  in  the  instinct 
which  teaches  the  bee  to  frame  its  wonderful  cell,  and  guides 
the  waterfowl  to  its  nest.  The  atmosphere,  that  wraps  the 
earth  in  a  garment,  testifies  His  presence ;  and  the  sun  bears 
witness  to  Him  who. lighted  up  its  fires.  "There  is  no  speech 
nor  language  where  their  voice  is  not  heard.  Their  line  is  gone 
out  through  aU  the  earth,  and  their  words  to  the  end  of  the 
world." 

Irrelevancy  of  metaphysical  objections.  —  Secondly^  we  seek  to 
confine  this  inquiry  within  its  legitimate  boundaries,  because  the 
grounds  which  justify  the  exclusion  of  metaphysical  proofs  show 
also  the  irrelevancy  of  metaphysical  objections.  It  needs  but 
little  study  of  the  evidences  of  natural  religion  to  convince  one, 
that  the  arguments  which  have  been  brought  against  the  doc- 
trine of  the  being  of  a  God,  are,  almost  without  exception,  ab- 
stract or  metaphysical  in  character.  They  are  founded  on 
alleged  imperfections  in  our  knowledge  of  cause  and  effect ;  on 
a  supposed  inconsistency  of  the  attribute  of  infinity  with  the 
moral  qualities  of  God  ;  on  the  assumed  inviolability  of  abstract 
but  personified  laws ;  on  the  difficulty  of  conceiving  of  eternal 
'duration,  or  of  any  person  who  is  increate ;  on  the  fallacy  of 
reasoning  from  what  is  finite  to  what  is  infinite ;  and  last  and 


40  PHILOSOPHY    AND    THEOLOGY. 

chiefly,  on  the  absence  of  demonstration  itself,  which,  it  is  taken 
for  granted,  is  quite  as  essential  in  this  case  as  for  establishing 
a  proposition  in  geometry.  To  take  away  the  whole  basis  of 
these  objections,  by  showing  that  they  are  no  more  pertinent  to 
the  subject  in  hand  than  to  the  doctrines  of  physical  science,  is 
to  contribute  most  eflectually  to  the  argument  of  the  theist.* 
If  it  be  proved,  that  reasoning  from  such  premises  is  nugatory 
and  inapplicable,  the  very  groundwork  of  the  systems  of  Spi- 
noza, Hume,  Kant,  Fichte,  and  other  modern  infidels,  is  re- 
moved, and  the  superstructure  falls.  The  philosophy  which 
attempts  to  define  and  demonstrate  all  things,  necessarily  leads 
to  fatalism.  In  the  posthumous  work  of  Spinoza,  may  be  found 
the  perfect  type  of  these  demonstration-seeking  systems, — 
systems  which  can  never  really  transcend  the  sphere  of  the 
abstractions  on  wdiich  they  are  founded,  and  therefore  never  can 
consistently  admit  a  Deity,  except  in  that  pantheistic  sense 
which  regards  God  as  a  pure  idea,  that  is  necessarily  involved 
in  all  existence,  and  ends  in  an  avowed  identification  of  the 
Divinity  with  the  material  universe.  The  title  of  his  book, 
"  Ethics  reduced  to  a  Geometrical  System,  and  proved  by  the 
Geometrical  Method,"  answers  to  its  contents ;  as  he  begins 
with  a  list  of  axioms  and  definitions,  and  proceeds,  by  a  series 
of  theorems  and  proofs,  to  that  doctrine  of  atheistic  fatalism 
which  has  been  the  seminal  principle  of  the  infidel  philosophy 
of  Germany  down  to  the  present  day. 

Infidel  systems  compared  with  ancient  mythology.  —  I  have  no 
fears  for  the  security  of  the  theist's  faith,  when  it  rests  on  the 
same  basis  wath  all  the  doctrines  of  natural  science,  and  with  all 


*  "  If  Christianity  be  a  system  of  metaphysical  deductions,  it  must  of 
course  maintain  itself  among  other  principles  of  the  same  class ;  and  must 
bring  all  its  positions  into  accordance  with  them ;  or  must  vanquish  them 
with  the  weapons  of  scholastic  warfare,  and  musfappeal  to  abstract  tniths 
on  every  occasion  of  controversy.  But  if  it  be  simply  and  solely  a  matter 
of  history  (as  to  its  truth),  and  of  verbal  affirmation  (as  to  its  doctrines), 
then  nothing  can  be  more  enormous  than  the  attempt  to  bring  the  general 
fact,  or  the  particular  affirmations,  into  collision  with  the  principles  of 
metaphysical  science."  —  Taylor's  Introduction  to  Edwards  on  the  WHi,  p.  140. 


PHILOSOPHY    AND    THEOLOGY.  41 

the  conclusions  which  govern  the  daily  conduct  of  men.  To 
distrust  such  evidence,  or  to  be  incapable  of  acting  upon  it,  is 
the  common  test  of  the  folly  that  borders  upon  idiocy ;  and  to 
such  an  unbeliever,  therefore,  may  be  literally  appHed  the  words 
of  Scripture,  "  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart.  There  is  no  God." 
The  infidel  systems  of  modern  philosophy  agree  very  nearly 
with  the  mythology  of  the  ancients,  which  admitted  "  Fate, 
Chance,  Nature,  Time,  Space,  to  be  real  beings,  —  nay,  even 
gods."  "  Mankind  in  all  ages,"  says  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill,  "  have  had 
a  strong  propensity  to  conclude,  that,  wherever  there  is  a  name, 
there  must  be  a  distinguishable  separate  entity  corresponding, 
and  every  complex  idea,  which  the  mind  has  formed  for  itself  by 
operating  upon  its  conceptions  of  individual  things,  was  consid- 
ered to  have  an  outward  objective  reality  answering  to  it." 
"  This  misapprehension,"  he  goes  on  to  say,  "  of  the  import  of 
general  language,  constitutes  Mysticism,  a  word  so  much  oftener 
written  and  spoken  than  understood.  Whether  in  the  Vedas, 
the  Platonists,  or  the  Hegelians,  mysticism  is  neither  more  nor 
less  than  ascribing  objective  existence  to  the  subjective  creations 
of  the  mind's  own  faculties,  to  mere  ideas  of  the  intellect ;  and 
believing,  that,  by  watching  and  contemplating  these  ideas  of  its 
own  making,  it  can  read  in  them  what  takes  place  in  the  world 
without."  In  religion,  it  may  be  added,  this  Mysticism  leads  to 
the  most  subtile  of  all  forms  of  idolatry,  —  the  only  one,  indeed, 
that  is  now  practicable  among  a  civilized  people,  —  the  deifica- 
tion of  an  idea,  the  apotheosis  of  an  abstraction.* 

The  immortality  of  the  soul  is  a  fact.  —  The  proposition,  that 
all  th-e  fundamental  truths  of  religion  relate  to  matters  of  fact, 
and  must  be  established,  if  at  all,  by  moral  reasoning,  leads  us 
to  look  beyond  the  behef  in  the  being  of  a  God,  and  to  inquire 

*  Thus  IVLCousija  talks  with  perfect  consistency  about  demonstrating  the 
existence  of  a  God,  for  he  not  only  reasons  from  pure  abstractions,  but 
avowedly  identifies  the  object  of  his  inquiry  with  an  abstract  idea.  Ac- 
cording to  his  theory,  the  three  elements  of  pure  Reason  —  the  idea  of  the 
Finite,  the  Infinite,  and  the  relation  between  them  —  do  not  afford  a  pas- 
sage to  the  Divine  existence,  "for  these  ideas  are  God  himself."  These  three 
elements,  "  a  triplicity  which  resolves  itself  into  unity,  and  a  unity  which 

4* 


42  rniLOSOPHY  and  theology. 

if  it  holds  true,  also,  of  the  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  souL 
I  pass  over  the  evidences  of  the  moral  government  of  the  Deity, 
as  unnecessary  to  be  considered  here ;  since  it  is  obvious  that 
they  must  consist  in  a  copious  induction  of  examples,  to  prove 
that  the  reward  of  virtue  and  the  punishment  of  vice  are  the 
great  objects  of  all  the  general  laws  by  which  the  world  is 
governed.  The  only  argument  brought  against  this  doctrine, 
being  an  enumeration  of  cases  of  a  seemingly  promiscuous  dis- 
tribution of  happiness  and  misery  in  this  life,  is  an  application 
of  the  rules  of  physical  inquiry,  so  that  abstract  reasoning  is 
admitted  to  be  out  of  place  on  either  side.  These  apparent 
exceptions,  this  allotment  of  good  and  evil  in  a  measure  which 
often  does  not  correspond  with  our  sense  of  merit  and  demerit, 
create  a  presumption,  it  is  said,  that  the  scheme  of  moral  gov- 
ernment, which  has  only  its  beginning  here,  will  be  completed 
in  a  future  state. 

If  the  immortality  of  the  soul  did  not  open  so  attractive  a  field 
for  general  disquisition,  it  would  be  difficult  to  conceive  of  it  as 
supported  by  abstract  arguments,  or  as  clouded  by  metaphysical 
doubts  and  difficulties.  "  If  a  man  dies,  shall  he  Uve  again  ?  " 
The  question  here  relates  to  a  fact  of  the  second  order,  to  an 
event  which  is  to  take  place,  a  future  occurrence  ;  if  the  present, 
or  actual,  existence  of  the  mind  or  person  is  a  fact,  so  also  is  its 
future  existence.  Our  means  of  answering  the  question,  too, 
are  more  limited  and  imperfect  in  this  case,  than  would  suffice 
for  the  establishment  of  any  fact  in  physical  science.  As  it 
relates  to  the  future,  we  can  have  no  sensible  evidence  of  it ; 
and  as  the  grave  confessedly  does  not  give  up  its  dead  to  our 
bodily  apprehension,  the  testimony  of  others,  except  so  far  as 
they  speak  of  a  revelation,  is  also  set  aside.  The  axiom  re- 
develops itself  into  triplicity,"  constitute  the  Divine  Intelligence  itself,  — 
the  tria  juncta  in  iino,  the  mystery  of  the  Godhead.  Those  who  are  satisfied 
with  this  conception  of  the  Deity,  can  accept  also  Cousin's  demonstrative 
proof  of  His  existence.  But  for  our  own  part,'  we  want  words  to  express 
our  indignation  at  this  impious  harlequinade  of  words,  —  this  mode  of 
binding  together  three  dry  sticks  of  abstract  i^eas,  and  then  baptizing  the 
misewible  fagot  as  God. 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  43 

specting  the  uniformity  of  nature,  which  is  the  usual  foundation 
of  our  reasonings  from  the  past  to  the  future,  cannot  aid  us  here ; 
because  we  are  not  asking  now,  whether  it  is  probable  that  an 
observed  law  of  nature  will  continue  in  force ;  the  question  is, 
whether  there  has  ever  been  such  a  law,  whether  a  messenger 
has  ever  come  back  to  us  from  that  invisible  bourne.  Accord- 
ingly, it  is  distinctly  admitted  by  the  most  judicious  writers  on 
natural  theology,  that  the  argument,  after  all,  is  but  a  series  of 
presumptions,  which  we  indulge  the  more  readily,  because  the 
conclusion  to  which  they  point  is  one  in  which  all  persons  wil- 
lingly acquiesce  ;  it  agrees  with  the  involuntary  shrinking  of  tlie 
rational  mind  from  the  idea  of  utter  extinction.  Most  of  these 
presumptions  were  as  well  stated  by  the  ancient  philosophers,  — 
hj  Socrates,  and  Plato,  and  Cicero,  —  as  by  the  moderns.  Tlie 
use  of  such  speculations  is  not  to  establish  the  truth  of  the  point 
in  question,  but  to  refute  the  objections  which  have  been  urged 
against  the  possibility  of  the  event.  It  can  be  shown,  that  the 
dissolution  of  the  body  does  not  necessarily  lead  us  to  infer  the 
extinction  of  the  soul,  but  that  the  presumption  lies  the  other 
way.  It  is  in  this  moderate  form  that  the  argument  from  the 
light  of  nature  is  stated  by  Butler,  and  it  would  have  been  well 
if  Clarke  had  imitated  his  reserve.  Immortality  is  no  part  of 
the  positive  teachings  of  nature;  to  Revelation  alone,  can  we 
look  for  light  and  life  beyond  the  grave. 

Some  wuatisfactory  conceptions  of  immortality.  —  I  take  no 
account  of  those  extraordinary  speculations,  which  suppose  the 
soul  of  man  to  be  a  ray  or  emanation  from  the  Deity,  which,  at 
the  dissolution  of  the  body,  will  again  be  absorbed  into  its 
source.  "  This  seems,"  says  Mr.  Stewart,  "  to  have  been  the 
opinion  of  many  of  the  ancient  Stoics  ;  and  a  similar  idea  has 
been  adopted  by  some  philosophers  in  modern  times,  who  have 
compared  the  soul^  when  joined  to  the  body,  to  a  small  portion 
of  the  sea  inclosed  in  a  vial ;  and,  when  separated  from  it,  to  the 
same  water,  confounded  and  intermixed,  by  the  breaking  of  the 
vial  .which  contained  it,  with  the  ocean  from  which  it  was  first 
taken."  This  is  but  one  of  the  applications  of  the  doctrine  oi pan- 
theism ;  and  those  who  can  give  up  the  belief  in  a  personal  God^ 


•"44  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

may  be  satisfied  with  this  conception  of  the  soul's  futurity.  But 
to  others,  the  loss  of  distinct  consciousness  and  personal  identity 
or  individuality,  which  is  implied  in  this  theory,  will  cause  the 
doctrine  to  appear  little  more  consoling  than  a  belief  in  the  ter- 
mination of  all  things  at  the  grave.  The  admitted  physical  fact, 
that  of  all  the  material  particles  which  constitute  the  body  at 
the  instant  of  death,  not  one  is  lost,  but  all  enter  into  new  com- 
binations, and  pass  through  a  ceaseless  round  of  growth  and 
decay,  gives  us  an  idea  of  the  perpetuity  of  our  corporeal 
frames,  which  answers  exactly  to  this  pantheistic  notion  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul.  To  speak  of  different  minds  being 
blended  together  and  lost  in  one  general  mass  of  being,  is  to  em- 
ploy a  form  of  words  which  is  only  not  injurious  to  sound  doc- 
trine, because  it  is  unintelligible  and  absurd.  Existence  is  art 
abstract  idea ;  there  is  no  such  thing  as  existence  in  general, 
apart  from  individual  beings,  any  more  than  there  is  such  a 
thing  as  an  audience  existing  separately  from  the  men  and 
women  who  compose  it.  To  speak  of  the  annihilation  of  these 
persons  in  their  individual  capacity,  leaving  their  presence  as  a 
general  assembly,  is  nonsense.  To  such  an  absurdity  are  we 
reduced  by  confounding  abstractions  iviih  realities,  or  employing 
terms  without  attaching  definite  and  distinct  meaning  to  them. 

The  light  of  nature  does  not  prove  immortality  properly  so 
called.  —  Yet  we  have  been  told,  that  it  is  "  written  legibly  in 
Nature  that  man  is  an  undying  being,"  and  every  thing  justifies 
us  in  saying,  that,  "  if  man  were  made  to  live  for  ever,  the  im- 
press of  that  intention  must  be  distinctly  visible  in  his  very 
structure."  Science,  it  is  accordingly  said,  must  decipher  the 
marks  which  indicate  this  intention,  and  spell  out  the  natural 
language  in  which  every  rational  creature  is  labelled  with  the 
promise  of  immortality,  just  as  it  infers,  from  a  mere  fragment 
of  a  fossil  bone,  "  the  whole  fashion  of  the  animal  to  which  it  be- 
longed, its  food,  its  mode  and  sphere  of  existence."  But  the 
history  which  is  deciphered  by  the  geologist  and  the  comparative 
anatomist  is  that  of  the  past;  and  not  even  in  their  boldest 
speculations,  do  they  attempt  to  pry  into  the  secrets  of  the 
future,  —  far  less,  to  speak  confidently  of  an  endless  duration  to 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  45 

come.  Science  can  read  the  annals  of  former  ages  ;  but  it  can- 
not "  look  into  the  seeds  of  time,  and  see  what  grain  will  grow, 
and  what  will  not."  The  astronomer  hesitates  about  pronounc- 
ing upon  the  future  stability  of  the  system  of  which  our  earth 
is  but  a  part,  even  on  the  supposition,  that  the  laws  which  now 
seem  to  control  its  action  shall  continue  forever  in  force,  without 
restraint,  limit,  or  interference  from  the  Omnipotent  hand  which 
first  established  them.  But  who  shall  say  when  His  purpose 
shall  be  accomplished?  or  who  shall  scan  the  designs  of  the 
Almighty?  The  naturalist  may  declare,  if  he  can,  that  the 
flower  shall  droop  and  die  at  the  end  of  a  single  season ;  but  he 
finds  no  evidence  that  the  secret  principle  which  now  vivifies  it, 
after  it  has  ceased  to  hold  these  material  particles  together,  shall 
yet  continue  to  be,  either  animating  other  forms,  or  existing 
apart  till  time  shall  be  no  more.  And  mental  science  is  equally 
barren  of  any  distinct  promise  of  the  future  ;  the  sharpest  scru- 
tiny of  the  phenomena  of  mind,  unguided  by  special  revelation, 
leaves  this  doctrine  of  immortality  precisely  w^here  it  was  in  the 
speculations  of  antiquity,  —  a  dim  though  glorious  foreboding,  a 
splendid  doubt. 

We  are  not  surprised,  then,  to  find  the  author  of  the  asser- 
tion just  quoted  rebi&ing  those  who  conceive  "  of  the  eternal 
world  as  situated  on  the  other  side  of  the  tomb,"  and  telling 
them  that  eternity  "  is  here  and  now,  —  that  they  are  in  it,  and 
that  it  is  in  them."  It  is  all  a  juggle  of  words,  then,  which  sub- 
stitutes a  flight  of  rhetoric  for  the  severe  expression  of  a  scien- 
tific or  a  religious  truth,  and  reduces  the  immortality  of  the  soul 
to  a  figure  of  speech.  Unquestionably,  it  is  a  tolerable  meta- 
jihor  to  say,  that  in  good  deeds  there  is  length  of  years ;  but  it 
is  paltering  with  words,  to  hold  up  this  trope  as  an  enunciation 
or  a  proof  of  the  doctrine  that  the  soul  shall  never  die. 

It  is  a  fact  that  religion  enjoi^is  certain  duties.  —  I  need  not 
give  but  one  other  illustration  of  the  truth,  that  religion  is 
founded  entirely  upon  matters  of  fact,  and  must  be  supported, 
therefore,  by  moral  evidence.  Religion  inculcates  certain  duties  ; 
it  enjoins  some  motives  and  modes  of  conduct,  and  forbids 
others,  —  and  this,  too,  by  the  highest  of  all  sanctions,  the  com- 


46  PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY. 

mand  of  God.  These  injunctions  are,  in  great  part,  coincident 
with  the  moral  precepts  of  our  own  hearts ;  the  Divine  law 
and  the  law  of  conscience,  whenever  they  meet,  harmonize  with 
each  other,  and,  .so  far  as  they  regard  only  the  outward  act,  are 
reduced  to  one.  Still,  to  the  religious  man,  there  is  an  additional 
sanction,  a  new  source  of  obligation  ;  the  act,  once  deemed  obliga- 
tory only  from  an  instinctive  perception  of  its  rightfulness,  now 
becomes  a  manifestation  of  obedience,  a  religious  duty,  an  act  of 
worship.  Virtuous  actions  as  such,  or  in  themselves  considered, 
are  not  religious  deeds ;  mere  virtue  must  be  consecrated  by 
reference  to  the  Divine  will,  before  it  can  assume  even  a  resem- 
blance to  holiness.  I  do  not  say,  that  the  moral  sense  is  of  im- 
perfect obligation,  so  that  it  must  be  buoyed  up  and  enforced  by 
the  will  of  God,  before  its  dictates  are  binding  upon  man.  Right 
is  of  necessary  and  inherent  obligation,  anterior  to  all  command. 
But  the  precept  added  gives  another  aspect  to  the  duty,  and 
creates  a  new  joy  in  the  fulfilment  of  it,  A  life  which  is  irre- 
proachable before  the  world,  which  is  warmed  by  all  the  kindly 
affections  and*  elevated  by  a  steadfast  adherence  to  noble  prin- 
ciples, is  still  an  irreligious  and  godless  one,  if  its  acts  are  not 
sanctified  by  this  reference  to  the  Supreme  Will.  This  is  but  a 
definition  of  religion,  the  meaning  of  which,  as  shown  by  its 
etymology  and  its  universal  acceptance,  is  to  religate,  or  to  bind 
anew,  to  the  performance  of  duty,  by  offering  an  additional 
motive  and  guide ;  and  this  meaning  constitutes  the  only  pos- 
sible distinction  between  religion  and  mere  morality.  In  the 
family,  a  rule  obligatory  in  itself  acquires  a  new  claim  to  ob- 
servance from  the  command  or  wish  of  a  parent,  the  motives  of 
obedience  and  love  being  thus  added  to  our  almost  involuntary 
homage  to  conscience.  So,  in  the  great  human  family,  the 
primal  duties  of  life,  —  truthfulness,  temperance,  justice,  and 
charity,  —  become  alike  more  awful  and  engaging,  —  I  do  not 
say  7nore  binding,  —  because  the  performance  of  them  is  the 
declared  will  of  our  Heavenly  Father. 

Observe,  then,  that  the  whole  practice  of  religion  depends 
upon  our  knowledge  of  this  fact,  that  God  has  commanded  us 
to  do,  or  to  abstain  from  doing,  certain  acts.     It  matters  not 


PHILOSOPHY   AND    THEOLOGY.  47 

how  this  knowledge  is  obtained,  whether  by  direct  revelation, 
or  by  inferring  the  will  of  the  Creator  from  the  character  and 
tendency  of  his  works.  In  either  case,  the  light  of  nature,  or  a 
Divinely  appointed  messenger,  or  a  miracle,  announces  to  us  a 
solemn,  an  awful  reality,  —  that  the  moral  law  is  His  law,  and 
transgression  of  it  is  violation  of  His  command.  I  may  even 
infer  the  fact  only  from  my  instinctive  perception  of  the  duty  ; 
still,  the  inference  is  one  that  leads  to  a  fact,  and  not  to  an 
abstract  principle,  I  argue,  not  from  one  general  law  to 
another,  but  from  a  given  effect  to  a  particular  cause ;  not  from 
one  rule  enforced  by  conscience  to  another  rule  enjoined  by  the 
Almighty,  but  from  the  fact  that  conscience  speaks  at  all,  to 
another  fact  that  God  also  speaks,  and  that  the  voice  of  con- 
science is  also  the  voice  of  God. 

The  practice  of  morality  distinguished  from  a  belief  in 
religion.  —  These  views,  I  am  well  aware,  are  directly  opposed 
to  a  theory  now  very  popular  with  a  certain  class  of  minds, 
which  tends,  first,  to  identify  revealed  with  natural  religion,  and 
next,  to  merge  both  in  the  practice  of  a  sublime  but  rather 
indefinite  morality.  A  pure  life  is  held  up  as  the  only  true 
criterion  of  a  religious  character,  and  then  as  the  only  desirable 
object  of  attainment.  Especially  has  this  disposition  been  man- 
ifested when  treating  of  the  nature  and  functions  of  conscience  ; 
so  that  many  earnest  but  injudicious  persons  have  now  become 
quite  as  fanatical,  quite  as  bigoted,  irrational,  and  intolerant,  in 
regard  to  moral  principle,  as  were  formerly  the  wildest  sect  of 
the  Puritans  in  respect  to  their  rehgious  faith.  Reverence  of 
their  own  nature  seems  to  them  quite  as  just  and  proper  as  rev- 
erence of  the  Deity,  and  a  glowing  though  vague  conception  of 
virtue  takes  the  place  of  religion  as  a  guide  of  life.  Nay,  a 
sort  of  ecstatic  contemplation  of  the  mere  ideas  of  duty  and 
right  has,  with  some,  usurped  the  place  of  a  practical  manifesta- 
tion of  these  ideas  in  outward  conduct ;  and  thus  a  species  of 
Antinomianism  has  been  established  on  ethical  grounds,  quite 
as  absurd  and  dangerous  as  the  same  theory  is,  when  nominally 
resting  on  Scripture.  If  these  vagaries  must  exist,  let  them,  at 
any  rate,  appear  in  their  true  character,  and  not  borrow  the 


48  THE   IDEA   OP   SELF,    OR   PERSONAL    EXISTENCE, 

name  and  gai-b  of  the  faith  which  they  dishonor.  Religion  is 
indeed  an  affair  of  the  heart  and  the  life  ;  but  a  belief  in  religion 
is  an  affair  of  the  intellect.  Impulses  cannot  take  the  place  of 
convictions,  nor  can  morality  itself  find  anywhere  a  sure  and 
permanent  support  except  in  a  recognition  of  its  dictates  as  the 
commands  of  God. 


CHAPTER    III, 

THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,  OR   PEKSON'AL    EXISTENCE, 

V  Summary  of  the  last  Chapter.  —  The  object  of  the  last  chap- 
ter was  to  draw  a  dividing  line  between  the  provinces  of  Phi- 
losophy and  Religion ;  to  show  that  the  one  was  occupied  with 
4Q^  abstractions,  and  the  other  with  realities  ;  and,  accordingly,  that 
they  rested  upon  different  species  of  evidence,  and  any  confu- 
sion of  the  two  was  likely  to  be  injurious  to  both.  During  the 
reign  of  Scholasticism,  says  Dr.  Whewell,  "  it  was  held,  without 
any  regulating  principle,  that  the  Philosophy  which  had  been 
bequeathed  to  the  world  by  the  great  geniuses  of  heathen  anti- 
quity, and  the  Philosophy  which  was  deduced  from  and  implied 
by  the  revelations  made  by  God  to  man,  must  be  identical ;  and, 
therefore,  that  Theology  is  the  only  true  Philosophy."  We  do 
but  invert  this  error  in  our  own  day,  when  the  opinion  of  many 
seems  to  tend  towards  the  conclusion,  if  indeed  it  be  not  oj^enly 
avowed,  that  Philosophy  is  the  only  true  Theology.     Against 

^  this  conclusion,  I  endeavored  to  show,  by  a  very  brief  review  of 
the  questions  that  are  chiefly  considered  by  metaphysicians  and 
by  religious  inquirers,  that  they  differed  as  widely  from  each 
other  as  logic  from  history,  so  that  reasoning  from  one  to  the 
other  was  not  merely  feeble  and  unsatisfactory,  but  irrational 
and  absurd.     The  great  truths  of  Religion  are  the  being  of  a 


THE    IDEA    OP    SELF,    OR   PERSONAL    EXISTENCE.  49 

God^  the  moral  government  of  the  worlds  the  immortality  of  the 
sold,  and  the  promulgation  of  certain  duties  as  directly  enjoined 
hy  the  authority  of  God.  These  truths,  I  reminded  you,  —  for 
no  proof  of  a  self-evident  proposition  is  needed  or  possible,  — 
are  matters  of  fact,  quite  as  much  so  as  the  existence,  at  some 
antecedent  time,  of  a  certain  political  community  upon  this  earth, 
the  authority  of  its  first  magistrate,  and  the  enactment  of  laws 
by  its  legislature  ;  that  is,  we  rely  upon  sensible  evidence,  the 
testimony  of  others,  and  upon  reasoning  from  elTects  to  causes, 
—  the  usual  media  of  physical  and  historical  inquiry,  —  for 
establishing  our  belief  in  their  reality. 

Statement  of  the  question  respecting  our  personal  existence.  — 
Considering  these  preliminaries  as  established,  we  approach 
now  the  body  of  the  subject,  and  attempt  to  prove  the  particular 
facts  in  the  case,  and  to  free  them  from  the  metaphysical  specu- 
lations and  difficulties  by  which  they  have  been  encumbered. 
In  seeking  to  know  the  relation  of  God  to  man,  we  must  begin 
by  an  investigation,  to  some  extent,  of  human  nature  itself  as 
our  conclusions  upon  this  point  cannot  fail  to  affect  every  part 
of  the  inquiry.  What  are  we,  considered  as  subjects  of  the  Divine 
laiv,  ctnd  what  light  is  thrown  hy  our  physical  constitution  upon 
the  purpose  or  end  for  which  we  began  to  exist  ?  or  is  it  likely 
that  there  was  no  purpose  in  the  case,  but  that  our  creation  was 
as  objectless  as  the  gambols  of  an  infant,  —  a  mere  freak  in 
the  disposition  of  matter  ?  The  common  belief,  that  man  is  a 
complex  being,  made  up  of  body  and  soul,  has  been  disturbed 
hy  strange  doubts  respecting  the  possibility  of  any  immaterial 
existence,  and  by  arguments  which  go  to  destroy  our  confidence 
even  in  our  personal  identity,  and  consequently  in  our  continu- 
ous responsibility  to  any  authority.  I  do  not  say,  that  a  solu- 
tion of  all  these  doubts  is  absolutely  necessary  before  the  great 
truths  of  religion  can  be  established.  Dr.  Priestley  was  a  ma- 
terialist, yet  he  believed  in  the  immortality  of  man  ;  he  was  a 
necessarian,  but  he  held  to  human  accountability  ;  and  few  who 
are  familiar  with  his  theological  writings  will  deny,  that  he  was 
even  a  profoundly  rehgious  person,  whatever  may  have  been  his 
errors  in  scientific,  political,  or  theological  speculation.     Still,  it 

5 


50  THE   IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE. 

was  for  him  to  vindicate  his  own  consistency ;  in  ordinary  minds, 
if  such  opinions  are  not  immediately  destructive  of  all  religious 
belief,  they  certainly  tend  to  darken  and  perplex  it,  so  that  a 
consideration  of  them  cannot  properly  be  omitted  here.  The 
principles  already  laid  down  do  not  permit  us  to  waive  the  dis- 
cussion as  metaphysical,  and  therefore  out  of  place ;  for  the 
point  of  inquiry  is  a  fact,  —  the  continued,  identical,  conscious 
existence  of  a  human  being,  —  his  personality,  —  the  reality  of 
a  man  to  himself.  Metaphysical  skepticism  has  gone  so  far, 
that,  before  undertaking  to  establish  the  existence  of  a  God,  we 
are  called  upon  to  prove  our  own  existence.  In  considering  the 
argument  upon  this  head,  lest  I  should  be  accused  of  breaking 
my  own  rules,  let  me  remind  you  that  the  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness has  been  admitted  to  be  as  legitimate  a  source  of 
knowledge  in  physical  inquiry,  as  the  evidence  of  the  seiises 
themselves. 

Common  mode  of  distinguishing  mind  from  matter.  —  In  the 
attempt  to  disprove  the  doctrine  of  materialism,  it  has  been 
usual  to  adopt  the  argument  to  which  I  briefly  alluded  in  a 
former  chapter ;  -. —  to  say,  that  mind  is  the  seat  or  subject  of 
certain  phenomena,  which  are  entirely  distinct  from  another 
class  of  attributes  or  qualities  which  inhere  in  matter.  What 
the  substance  is,  in  either  case,  we  cannot  determine,  for  our 
knowledge  both  of  mind  and  matter  is  merely  relative.  As 
"we  know  the  one,"  argues  Mr.  Stewart,  "  only  by.,  such  sensi- 
ble qualities  as  extension,  figure,  and  solidity  ;  and  the  other  by 
such  operations  as  sensation,  thought,  and  volition  ;  we  are  cer- 
tainly entitled  to  say,  that  matter  and  mind,  considered  as  ob- 
jects of  human  study,  are  essentially  different ;  the  science  of 
the  former  resting  ultimately  on  the  phenomeria  exhibited  to  our 
senses  ;  that  of  the  latter,  on  the  phenomena  of  which  we  are 
conscious.  Instead,  therefore,  of  objecting  to  the  scheme  of 
materialism,  that  its  conclusions  are  false,  it  would  be  more  ac- 
curate to  say,  that  its  aim  is  unphilosophical."  Accordingly,  it 
is  maintained  to  be  "  no  more  proper  to  say  of  mind  that  it  is 
material,  than  to  say  of  body  that  it  is  spiritual." 

Insufficiency  of  this  distinction.  —  This  argument  may  be 


THE   IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR   PERSONAL    EXISTENCE.  51 

very  well  as  far  as  it  goes  ;  but  it  seems  to  me  to  be  insufficient, 
and  to  be  very  like  an  attempt  to  console  us  for  our  imperfect 
knowledge  of  one  thing,  by  reminding  us  of  our  total  ignorance 
of  another.  Besides,  as  mind  and  matter  are  confessedly  the 
only  constituents  or  parts  that  make  up  the  human  being,  it  is 
rather  humiliating  to  be  told,  that  we  have  only  a  relative 
knowledge  of  ourselves.  When  informed  that  matter  is  only 
the  unknown  substratum  of  certain  qualities,  we  may  acquiesce  ; 
for  it  has  been  shown  that  this  idea  of  matter  in  general  is  a 
mere  abstraction,  and  if  it  were  lost  altogether,  it  would  be  no 
serious  privation,  our  knowledge  of  particular  substances  remain- 
ing precisely  what  it  was  before.  But  when  a  person  is  told 
that  he  is  only  an  unknown  sometldng  which  feels,  thinks,  and 
wills,  he  is  very  likely  to  reluct  at  the  conclusion,  inasmuch  as 
he  considers  his  own  existence,  not  as  an  abstraction,  but  a 
reality.  The  argument  puts  our  knowledge  of  the  material  and 
the  intellectual  world  exactly  on  a-  par,  so  that  the  idea  of  per- 
sonality is  left  unprovided  for,  or  it  is  doubtful  whether  the 
body  or  the  mind  is  the  person. 

Second  argument  against  materialism.  —  Let  us  look  further, 
then,  for  an  argument  against  materialism,  founded  on  the  abso- 
lute incongruity  of  mental  phenomena  with  material  organization 
or  change.  He  who  denies  the  existence  of  spirit  must  main- 
tain that  ideas  and  emotions  are  evolved,  in  some  unintelligible 
manner,  by  the  action  of  some  part  of  the  body,  —  probably  of 
the  nerves  or  the  brain.  Now  we  cannot  conceive  of  any 
changes  in  these  organs  corresponding  to  the  infinite  variety  of 
mental  phenomena,  except  by  the  motions  of  their  parts.  But 
motion  is  not  thought ;  the  vibrations  of  the  nerves,  the  agitation 
of  the  brain,  the  reciprocal  action  of  infinitesimal  particles  on 
each  other,  is  Still  bodily  action,  and  not  mental  action.  Grant- 
ing, for  a  moment,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  they  produce, 
or  evolve,  thought,  they  are  not  thought,  any  more  than  the 
striking  of  a  hammer  on  a  bell  is  sound,  or  than  the  opening  of 
the  eyes  is  vision.  A  cause  can  never  be  confounded  with  its 
effect,  even  though  it  be  the  real  or  efficient  cause,  and  not  a 
mere  invariable  antecedent  or  concomitant  event. 


82  THE   IDEA    OF    SKLF,    OR   PERSONAL    EXISTENCE. 

Let  me  illustrate  this  point  a  little  further.  Chemists  and 
matliematicians  have  long  been  occupied  with  researches  and 
speculations  concerning  the  nature  of  heat,  or  caloric  ;  at  present, 
they  can  only  say  of  it,  that  it  is  an  invisible  and  imponderable 
agent  or  principle,  which  produces  certain  effeets,  —  the  words 
"  agent "  and  "  principle,"  be  it  observed,  being  used  only  for 
convenience  of  speech,  and  really  betraying  the  ignorance  of  the 
speaker,  who  does  not  know  whether  heat  is  some  subtile  fluid, 
existing  by  itself,  and  tending  constantly  to  an  equilibrium  by 
emission  in  straight  lines  ;  or  whether  it  proceeds  from  undula- 
tions, or  certain  changes  resembling  undulations,  in  a  fluid  which 
exists  also  for  other  purposes ;  the  heat  in  this  case  not  being 
material,  and  never  existing  by  itself,  so  that  we  should  speak 
of  a  hot  body  or  a  cold  one,  just  as  we  speak  of  a  smooth  sur- 
face or  a  rough  surface,  never  supposing  that  smoothness  is  a 
substance,  but  an  attribute.  Now,  suppose  that  some  unin- 
formed person,  observing  that  heat  was  always  evolved  when 
one  body  was  rubbed  against  another,  or  when  it  was  burned, 
or  when  it  was  condensed  from  a  gaseous  to  a  liquid,  or  from  a 
liquid  to  a  solid  state,  should  say  that  the  problem  was  solved, 
and  that  heat  was  unquestionably  nothing  hut  fnctw7i,  or  com- 
bustion, or  condensation.  A  chemist  would  certainly  say,  that 
this  person  did  not  even  understand  the  question ;  for  to  know 
that  friction  produced  heat,  was  quite  a  different  thing  from  say- 
ing that  friction  constituted  heat. 

So  the  agitation  of  the  brain  may  produce,  or  rather  precede, 
or  accompany  thought ;  but  it  does  not  constitute  thought.  Nay, 
it  is  not  even  so  probable  that  the  motion  produces  the  thought, 
as  it  is  that  the  thought  produces  the  motion.  Fear  blanches  the 
cheek ;  but  the  paleness  does  not  produce  the  fear,  and,  for  a 
still  stronger  reason,  does  not  constitute  it.* 


*  "  When  we  say,  that  the  force  which  holds  the  planets  in  their  orbits  is 
resolved  into  gravity,  or  that  the  force  which  makes  substances  combine 
chemically  is  resolved  into  electricity,  we  assert  in  the  one  case  what  is,  and 
in  the  other  case  what  might,  and  probably  will,  ultimately  be,  a  legitimate 
result  of  induction.  In  both  these  cases,  motion  is  resolved  into  motion. 
The  assertion  is,  that  a  case  of  motion,  which  was  supposed  to  be  special, 


THE   IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE.  53 

Hurrie^s  argument  against  the  consciousness  of  personal  exist- 
ence,—  Here,  again,  the  argument  appears  to  be  sound  as  far 
as  it  goes ;  and  it  establishes  a  radical  difference  between  the 
phenomena  of  mind  and  those  of  matter.  Still,  it  does  not  sup- 
ply the  means  of  tying  those  phenomena,  as  it  were,  together, 
or  of  building  up  that  idea  of  personality,  or  self,  against  which 
the  sophistry  of  Hume  was  chiefly  directed.  This  subtile  skep- 
tic directed  his  argument  against  our  idea  of  individuality,  or 


and  to  follow  a  distinct  laAV  of  its  own,  conforms  to  and  is  included  in  the 
general  law  which  regulates  another  class  of  motions.  But  from  these  and 
similar  generalizations,'  countenance  and  currency  hare  been  given  to  at- 
tempts to  resolve,  not  motion  into  motion,  but  heat  into  motion,  light  into 
motion,  sensation  itself  into  motion  (as  in  Hartley's  doctrine  of  vibra- 
tions) ;  states  of  coosciousness  into  states  of  the  nervous  system,  as  in  the 
ruder  forms  of  the  materialist  philosophy;  vital  phenomena  into  mechani- 
cal or  chemical  processes,  as  in  some  schools  of  physiology, 

"  Now  I  am  far  from  pretending  that  it  may  not  be  capable  of  proof,  or 
that  it  would  not  be  a  very  important  addition  to  our  knowledge,  if  proved, 
that  certain  motions  in  the  particles  of  bodies  are  among  the  conditions  of 
the  production  of  heat  or  light ;  that  certain  assignable  physical  modifica- 
tions of  the  nerves  may  be  among  the  conditions,  not  only  of  our  sensations 
or  emotions,  but  even  of  our  thoughts  ;  that  certain  mechanical  and  chem- 
ical conditions  may,  in  the  order  of  nature,  be  sufficient  to  determine  to 
action  the  physiological  laws  of  life.  All  I  insist  upon,  in  common  with 
every  sober  thinker  since  modern  science  has  be^n  definitely  constituted, 
is,  that  it  shall  not  be  supposed  tliat,  by  proving  these  things,  one  step  would 
be  made  towards  a  real  explanation  of  heat,  light,  or  sensation ;  or  that 
the  generic  peculiarity  of  those  phenomena  can  be  in  the  least  degree 
evaded  by  any  such  discoveries,  however  well  established.  Let  it  be  shown, 
for  instance,  that  the  most  complex  series  of  physical  causes  and  effects 
s-ucceed  one  another  in  the  eye  and  in  the  brain  to  produce  a  sensation  of 
color ;  rays  falling  upon  the  eye,  refracted,  converging,  crossing  one 
another,  making  an  inverted  image  on  the  retina,  and  after  this  a  motion, 
—  let  it  be  a  vibration  or  a  rush  of  nervous  fluid,  or  whatever  else  you  are 
pleased  to  suppose,  along  the  optic  nerve, — a  propagation  of  this  motion 
to  the  brain  itself,  and  as  many  more  different  motions  as  you  choose ; 
still,  at  the  end  of  these  motions,  there  is  something  which  is  not  a  motion, 
tliere  is  a  feeling  or  sensation  of  color.  Whatever  number  of  motions  we 
may  be  able  to  interpolate,  and  whether  they  be  real  or  imaginary,  we  shall 
still  find,  at  the  end  of  the  series,  a  motion  antecedent  and  a  color  conse- 
quent." AMill's  J^gic,  pp.  486,  487. 

5* 


54  THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    KXISTENCE. 

our  consciousness  of  separate,  personal  existence.     lie  reasons 
thus : — 

"  When  I  turn  my  reflection  on  myself^  I  never  can  perceive 
this  self  without  some  one  or  more  perceptions ;  nor  can  I  ever 
perceive  any  thing  but  the  perceptions.  It  is  the  composition 
of  these,  therefore,  which  forms  the  self.  Sui)pose  the  mind  to 
be  reduced  even  below  the  life  of  an  oyster ;  suppose  it  to  have 
only  one  perception,  as  of  thirst  or  hunger.  Consider  it  in  that 
situation.  Do  you  conceive  any  thing  but  merely  that  percep- 
tion ?  Have  you  any  notion  of  self,  or  substance  ?  If  not,  thg 
addition  of  other  perceptions  can  never  give  you  that  notion. 
The  annihilation,  wdiich  some  people  suppose  to  follow  upon 
death,  and  which  entirely  destroys  this  self  is  nothing  hut  an 
extinction  of  all  pa7'ticidar  perceptions,  —  love  and  hatred,  pain 
and  pleasure,  thought  and  sensation.  Philosophers  begin  to  be 
reconciled  to  the  principle,  that  we  have  no  idea  of  external  sub- 
stance, distinct  from  the  ideas  of  particular  qualities.  This  must 
pave  the  way  for  a  like  principle  with  regard  to  the  mind,  that 
we  have  no  notion  of  it,  distinct  from  the  particular  perceptions. 
In  short,  there  are  two  principles  which  I  cannot  render  con- 
sistent, nor  is  it  in  my  power  to  renounce  either  of  them ; 
namely,  that  all  our  distinct  perceptions  are  distinct  existences, 
and  that  the  mind  never  perceives  any  real  connection  among  dis- 
tinct existences.  Did  our  perceptions  either  inhere  in  some- 
thing simple  and  individual,  or  did  the  mind  perceive  some  real 
connection  among  them,  there  would  be  no  difficulty  in  the  case. 
For  my  part,  I  must  plead  the  privilege  of  a  skeptic,  and  confess 
that  this  difficulty  is  too  hard  for  my  understanding." 

So  far  the  Scotch  skeptic.  What  some  call  the  mind,  and 
others  the  person,  is,  to  him,  simply  a  succession  of  perpetually 
fleeting  ideas  or  emotions,  in  nowise  connected  with  each  other, 
acknowledging  no  common  ownership,  and  admitting  no  reality 
or  actual  being,  except  as  each,  during  the  moment  of  its  con- 
tinuance, affirms  its  own  existence.  The  mind  is  like  a  string 
of  beads  with  the  string  taken  away,  each  bead  being  seen  or 
known  to  exist  only  by  itself,  and  for  its  particular  moment,  as 
the  direct  knowledge  of  one  must  pass  away  before  we  can  pos- 


THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE.  55 

sibly  gain  a  knowledge  of  another.  For  observe,  that,  on  this 
theory,  mind  is  really  worse  off  than  matter  ;  our  idea  of  each 
is  but  a  congeries  of  certain  qualities  ;  but  in  the  latter  case,  the 
qualities  or  attributes  exist  and  are  perceived  together,  or  in  a 
lump ;  while  in  the  former,  they  exist  successively,  only  one 
being  known  at  any  one  time.  In  fine,  I  have  a  certain  sensa- 
tion or  thought,  of  the  reality  of  which,  for  the  moment,  there 
can  be  no  doubt ;  but  it  is  a  fallacy,  says  Hume,  to  suppose  that 
this  thought,  which  is  a  distinct  existence,  belongs  to  me,  another 
distinct  being,  having  a  continuous  existence.  I  am  conscious 
of  the  thought,  but  not  of  the  person  thinking. 

Memory  cannot  prove  personality.  —  I  am  anxious  not  to  over- 
state Hume's  theory,  nor  to  understate  his  argument,  and  hope 
that  I  have  done  justice  to  both.  Perhaps  it  is  wrong  to  call  it 
his  theory ;  Hume  had  no  theory ;  his  only  object  was  to  dis- 
prove the  theories  and  doctrines  of  other  people.  He  says  only 
that  no  other  doctrine  than  this  can  be  proved,  —  that  is,  demon- 
strated ;  he  acknowledges  that  the  difficulty  is  too  hard  for  his 
understanding.  Now  it  is  certainly  an  insufficient  answer  to 
his  sophistry  to  maintain,  as  Dr.  Brown  and  most  of  the  other 
Scotch  philosophers  have  done,  that  "  our  knowledge  of  mind  is 
only  relative,"  that  "  we  know  it  only  as  susceptible  of  feelings 
that  have  already  existed,"  and  to  throw  the  whole  burden  of 
solving  the  problem  upon  memory,  by  which  one  faculty,  they 
say,  "  our  mind,  simple  and  indivisible  as  it  truly  is,  is,  as  it 
were,  multiplied  and  extended,  expanding  itself  over  that  long 
series  of  sensations  and  emotions,  in  which  it  seems  to  live  again, 
and  to  live  with  many  lives."  Memory  is  more  easy  to  be  dis- 
credited than  any  other  faculty,  on  account  of  the  m-istakes  with 
which  it  is  often  chargeable,  —  the  frequent  difficulty  of  distin- 
guishing between  recollections  and  imaginations.  A  remem- 
bered thought  differs  from  an  original  one  in  the  single  respect 
of  its  being  accompanied  by  a  helief  that  it  was  in  the  mind  be- 
fore, and  that  it  is  now  present  for  the  second  time.  This  helief 
cannot  be  substantiated,  or  proved ;  it  may  be,  it  sometimes  is, 
unfounded,  —  a  vivid  conception  having  taken  the  place  of  a 
reality.     Memory  alone,  then,  cannot  establish  beyond  a  doubt 


•66  THE   IDEA    OF   SELF,    OR   PERSONAL    EXISTENCE. 

the  separate,  continuous  existence  of  self,  —  cannot  fully  support 
the  idea  of  personality ;  and  I  have  already  given  reasons  for 
saying,  that  tlie  vague  and  abstract  notion  of  substance,  being 
assumed  as  the  common  substratum  of  material  and  intellectual 
phenomena,  leaves  it  doubtful  whether  the  body  or  the  mind  is 
the  person. 

The  fact  of  self-consciousness  stated.  —  But  we  need  not  de- 
spair of  the  attempt  to  confirm  our  own  personaHty  against  all 
metaphysical  cavils,  if  we  consider  each  particular  personal 
existence  as  a  fact,  and  then  endeavor  to  prove  it  by  the  usual 
methods  of  physical  inquiry ;  though  the  argument  must  de- 
pend, of  course,  on  the  facts  of  consciousness,  and  not  on  those 
furnished  by  the  senses.  Let  me  ask  you,  then,  for  a  time,  to 
discard  the  word  inind,  as  the  fruitful  source  of  vague  specu- 
lation and  error,  and  to  look  at  that  of  which  it  is  a  mere 
synonyme,  —  at  the  m.an  himself*  The  sentient,  thinking  be- 
ing, which  I  call  self  is  an  absolute  unit.  Duality  or  complexity 
cannot  be  predicated  of  it  in  any  intelligible  sense.  Personality 
is  indivisible  ;  "  I "  am  one.  Conceive  of  yourself,  if  you  can, 
as  divided  into  two  persons,  or  as  separated  from  yourself,  or  as 
multiplied  in  any  manner  whatever ;  the  supposition  is  an  ab- 
surdity, and  the  language  in  which  it  is  conveyed  is  immediately 
felt  to  be  ludici'ous.  You  can  conceive  of  an  arm,  or  a  leg,  or 
any  part  of  the  body,  being  separated  from  you ;  there  is  no 
difficulty  in  that.  But  the  idea  of  personality  remains  one  and 
indivisible,  sometimes  to  torture  us  with  remorse  for  crime  com- 
mitted long  before,  sometimes  to  sustain  and  cheer  the  drooping 
spirit,  when  all  else  is  lost,  with  the  assured  hope,  that  this  unity 
of  being  is  indestructible,  and  shall  survive  the  dissolution  of  the 
body  and  the  grave.  For  the  idea  of  personal  identity  and 
oneness  alone  supports  the  consciousness  of  responsibility ;  the 

=*  "  That  which  is  called  *I'  is  a  living  reality,  and  though  mind  were 
annihilated,  it  would  remain  a  repository  of  given  facts."  Psychology,  or 
the  science  of  mind,  ought  rather  to  be  called  the  science  of  man  himself; 
for,  as  has  been  acutely  observed,  if  my  mind  is  not  mysdf,  then  the  uni- 
verse resolves  itself  into  three  orders  of  existence  ;  1st,  mind;  2d,  matter; 
3d,  what  I  call  me,  to  whom  the  changes  of  the  other  two  are  known. 


THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE.  57 

guilty  man  cannot  escape  from  himself,  though  human  law  be  a 
feeble  and  tardy  avenger  of  wrong. 

Self  has  no  plurality  of  organs  or  faculties.  —  This  individual 
being,  or  self  is  capable  of  acting  in  different  ways  ;  and  for 
convenience  of  speech  and  classification,  these  modes  of  action 
have  been  arranged  as  the  results  of  different  faculties  ;  though, 
in  truth,  it  is  no  more  proper  to  attribute  to  the  person  distinct 
powers  and  organs  for  comparison,  memory,  and  judgment,  than 
to  give  to  the  body  separately  a  walking  faculty,  a  lifting  fac- 
ulty, a  jumping  faculty,  and  so  on.  In  the  one  case,  these  fac- 
ulties are  but  different  aspects  of  the  same  mental  power  ;  in  the 
other,  but  different  appKcations  of  the  same  muscular  strength. 
To  attribute  to  me  the  organ  of  memory,  is  no  more  than  to  say 
that  /  am  able  to  remember,  the  person  who  remembers  being 
one  and  the  same  with  him  who  judges  and  feels.  Yet  this 
classification  of  mental  phenomena  seems  to  imply  a  complexity 
of  being,  and,  for  this  reason  alone,  it  has  always  furnished  the 
chief  support  for  the  several  theories  of  materialism.  The 
groundwork  of  these  systems  entirely  falls  away,  when  we  con- 
sider that  this  division  of  organs  is  only  verbal,  as  the  real  di- 
vision is  of  a  plurality  of  fmctio7is  exercised  by  the  same  being. 
Seeing  differs  from  hearing,  because  two  distinct  organs  of  the 
body  are  exercised  for  different  ends ;  but  when  the  two  acts 
become  entirely  mental,  as  in  the  case  of  memory,  the  distinc- 
tion between  them  is  done  away  ;  I  recall  the  features  of  a 
landscape  with  which  I  was  once  familiar,  by  the  same  kind  of 
effort  which  brings  to  mind  the  successive  notes  of  a  strain  of 
music  heard  long  ago.  More  facility  may  be  gained  by  prac- 
tice with  one  class  of  recollections  than  with  another ;  this  does 
not  affect  the  nature  of  the  process,  but  only  its  rapidity. 

Immediate  consciousness  of  self  —  How  we  come  to  a  knowl- 
edge of  self,  or  to  this  consciousness  o^  personality,  —  whether 
mediately,  by  an  act  of  judgment,  knowing  that  each  sensation 
or  thougrht  must  have  a  substratum  or  substance  in  which  it  in- 
heres,  and  hence  inferring  what  we  are  not  directly  conscious 
of ;  or  whether  we  gain  it  immediately,  being  equally,  and  at 
the  same  moment,  conscious  of  the  sensation  and  of  the  sentient 


58  THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE. 

being,  —  is  a  question  that  need  not  detain  us  long.  A  thought 
is  but  the  phase,  or  aspect,  for  the  moment,  of  the  thinking  be- 
ing ;  it  is  but  the  abstract  expression  of  the  fact  expressed  in 
the  words,  "  I  think."  If  we  speak  of  it  as  "  a  state  of  mind," 
the  convenience  of  language  compds  us  to  regard  it  abstractly ; 
but  looking  upon  it  as  an  act,  we  consider  the  real  occurrence 
in  its  entireness.  Take  one  of  the  appetites,  for  instance ;  to 
have  "  the  sensation  of  hunger  "  is  an  abstract  and  general  ex- 
pression, applicable  to  any  number  of  cases ;  but  in  any  par- 
ticular case,  it  signifies  nothing  unless  interpreted  to  mean  "  / 
am  hungry."  The  subject  and  object  of  thought  are  thus  in- 
separably blended  together  in  every  act  of  thinking,  and  can  no 
more  be  separated  from  each  other  in  reality  than  two  polar 
forces.  When  we  reflect  upon  a  sensation  that  has  passed  away, 
we  may  consider  it  by  abstraction,  —  first,  in  regard  to  the 
object,  and  then  it  is  called  a  sensation  of  color,  hardness,  or 
something  else  ;  or,  secondly,  in  regard  to  the  subject,  and  then 
I  have  a  conception  of  self  as  performing  some  act,  or  experi- 
encing some  affection.  This  apperception,  as  Leibnitz  calls  it, 
or  direct  consciousness  of  self  seems  to  me  an  invariable  con- 
comitant of  mental  action.*  The  attention,  indeed,  may  be 
concentrated  on  the  object  of  thought,  and  then  the  personal 
consciousness  is  not  remembered.  Just  so,  a  person  may  be 
absorbed  in  a  reverie  while  loud  music  is  sounding  near  him, 
and  pay  no  attention  to  it ;  it  is  usually  said,  that  he  does  not 
hear  it ;  but  this  cannot  be,  as  his  faculty  of  hearing  remains 
unimpaired,  the  vibrations  must  reach  his  ears,  and,  in  fact,  if 

*  Properly  speaking,  consciousness  is  an  attribute,  not  of  mind,  but  of  me. 
When  mind  is  objectified,  or  made  an  object  of  thought,  it  is  not  mind  which 
is  conscious  of  its  own  changes,  but  '  I '  am  conscious  of  those  changes. 
"  Eor  to  change  and  to  be  cognizant  of  change ;  for  a  thing  to  he  in  a  par- 
ticular state,  and  to  be  aware  that  it  is  in  this  state,  is  surely  not  one  and 
the  same  fact,  but  two  totally  distinct  and  separate  facts."  Herein  is  a 
fundamental  diiFerence  between  matter  and  vie ;  for  matter  is  not  cognizant 
of  its  own  changes  —  is  not  aware  of  its  state. 

For  the  substance  of  this  note  and  the  preceding  one,  I  am  indebted  to 
some  excellent  articles  on  the  Philosophy  of  Consciousness  in  "  Blackwood's 
Magazine"  for  1838. 


THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE.  59 

the  music  suddenly  stops,  lie  is  roused  from  his  abstraction  by 
the  absence  of  the  accustomed  sound,  just  as  one  dozing  in 
church  is  waked  when  the  preacher  has  ended  his  sermon.  In 
truth,  he  hears  every  note,  but  instantly  forgets  it,  from  the  lack 
of  attention ;  and  at  the  close,  of  course,  he  has  forgotten  the 
whole.  Just  so,  a  person  thinking  is  never  conscious  of  a 
thought  without  being  conscious  of  himself  at  the  same  instant ; 
his  attention  may  be  directed  either  to  the  object  or  the  subject, 
according  to  the  wish  or  exigency  of  the  moment.  If  laboring 
under  acute  pain,  the  phrase  which  expresses  the  state  of  his 
mind  at  any  instant  is,  "  I  suffer ; "  for  the  abstract  sensation  of 
pain  would  have  no  interest  for  him,  except  as  self  enters  into 
or  endures  it. 

What  is  personality.  —  If  this  be  the  correct  view,  and  I  can 
see  no  valid  objection  to  it,  the  idea  of  personality  is  fixed  on 
an  immovable  basis.  Self  is  an  indivisible  unit^  —  a  monad,  in 
technical  phrase,  —  endowed  with  intelligence  and  activity  ;  and 
ive  are  directly  conscious  of  it  in  itself  and  in  its  passing 
into  thought  and  act,  without  being  compelled  to  infer  its  exist- 
ence from  these  manifestations.  If  we  only  inferred  the  sub- 
stance from  the  attributes,  we  could  not  conceive  of  it  unless  in 
the  exercise  of  those  attributes,  —  any  more  than  we  can  con- 
ceive of  matter  without  its  qualities,  without  extension,  form, 
solidity,  or  color.  But  we  can  conceive  of  our  personal  existence 
in  the  intervals  both  of  thought  and  action.  A  consciousness  of 
existence  underlies  the  exercise  of  every  function  of  mental 
life.  The  celebrated  argument  of  Descartes,  "  I  think,  there- 
fore I  am,"  has  been  objected  to,  and  with  reason,  on  the  ground 
that  the  conclusion  merely  repeats  what  is,  not  merely  impHed 
in  the  premise,  but  formally  stated  in  it.  Thought  is  but  a 
mode  of  action,  and  cannot  be  conceived  as  a  reality  without 
the  agent,  though  it  may  be  considered  separately  by  abstrac- 
tion. * 


=*  From  the  writer,  already  cited,  on  the  Philosophy  of  Consciousness, 
I  borrow  another  illustration  of  the  fact,  that  our  knowledge  of  self  i3 
direct  and  immediate. 

"  The  child's  employment  of  language  previous  to  his  use  of  the  word 


60  TIIK    IDEA    OF    SKLF,  OK    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE. 

Why  self  cannot  he  defiled.  —  But  it  is  said  tluit  we  cannot 
describe  self  or  give  any  definition  of  personality,  except  by 
enumerating  its  attributes,  or  tlie  acts  of  which  it  is  capable. 
Hence  it  is  inferred,  that  we  know  nothing  more  of  it  than  of 
matter,  which  can  be  described  only  as  the  unknown  substratum 
of  certain  qualities  that  are  evident  to  sense.     But  all  simple 


'  1/  may  be  accounted  for  upon  the  principle  of  imitation,  or,  at  any  rate, 
it  must  be  considered  as  a  mere  illustration  of  the  general  law  of  cause 
and  effect.  But  neither  association,  nor  the  principle  of  imitation,  nor  any 
conceivable  modification  of  the  law  of  cause  and  effect,  will  account  for 
the  child's  use  of  the  word  '  I.'  In  originating^  and  using  this  term,  he 
rcA^erses  or  runs  counter  to  all  these  laAvs,  and  more  particularly  performs 
a  process  diametrically  opposed  to  any  act  of  imitation.  Take  an  illustra- 
tion of  this.  A  child  hears  another  person  call  a  certain  object  '  a  table ; ' 
and  the  power  of  imitation  naturally  leads  him  to  call  the  same  thing,  and 
any  similar  thing,  '  a  table.'  Suppose,  next,  that  the  child  hears  this  per- 
son apph'  to  himself  the  word  '  I.'  In  this  case,  too,  the  power  of  imita- 
tion would  naturally  lead  the  child  to  call  that  man  '  I.'  But  is  this  what 
the  child  does  1  No.  As  soon  as  he  becomes  conscious,  he  ceases,  so  far 
at  least  as  the  word  *  I '  is  concei*ned,  to  be  an  imitator.  He  still  applies 
the  word  '  table '  to  the  objects  to  which  other  people  apply  that  term  ;  and 
in  this  he  imitates  them.  But  with  regai'd  to  the  word  '  I,'  he  applies  this 
expression  to  a  thing  totally  different  from  that  which  he  hears  all  other 
people  applying  it  to.  They  apply  it  to  themselves,  but  he  does  not  apply 
it  to  them,  but  to  himself;  and  in  this,  he  is  not  an  imitator,  but  the  absolute 
originator  of  a  new  notion. 

"Is  it  objected,  that,  in  the  use  of  the  word  'I,'  the  child  may  still  be 
considered  as  an  imitative  creature,  inasmuch  as  he  merely  applies  to  him- 
self a  word  which  he  hears  other  people  applying  to  themselves,  having 
borrowed  the  application  of  it  from  them  1  Oh  !  vain  and  short-sighted 
objection!  As  if  this  very  fact  did  not  necessarily  imply  and  prove  that 
he  has,  first  of  all,  originated  within  himself  the  notion  expressed  by  the 
word  'I,'  (namely,  the  notion  of  his  conscious  self,)  and  thereby,  and 
thereby  only,  has  become  capable  of  comprehending  what  ihei/  mean  by  it. 
In  the  use  and  understanding  of  this  word,  every  man  must  be  altogether 
original.  No  person  can  teach  to  another  its  true  meaning  and  right  appli- 
cation ;  for  no  two  human  beings  ever  use  it,  or  ever  can  use  it,  in  the 
same  sense,  or  apply  it  to  the  same  being.  The  word  *  I,'  in  viy  mouth,  as 
applied  to  you,  would  prove  me  to  be  a  madman.  The  word  *  I,'  in  your 
mouth,  as  applied  to  me,  would  prove  you  to  be  the  same.  Therefore,  I 
cannot,  by  any  conceivability,  teach  you  what  it  means,  nor  can  you  teach 
me."  —  Blackwood,  vol.  xliii.  p.  790. 


THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,  OR   PERSONAL    EXISTENCE.  61 

ideas  are  incapable  of  definition,  and  the  only  mode  of  describ- 
ing them  is  to  enumerate  the  occasions  on  which  they  rise,  or 
are  suggested  to  the  mind.  Wherever  there  is  complexity,  the 
several  parts  can  be  distinguished,  and  a  complete  list  of  these 
will  constitute  a  description  of  the  object,  which  will  be  inteUi- 
gible  to  one  who  has  had  no  sensible  evidence  of  its  existence. 
But  if  the  idea  be  simple,  no  account  of  it  can  be  understood 
except  by  those  who  know  it,  or  have  had  experience  of  it 
already.  Colors  are  simple  sensations*,  and  the  impossibility  of 
defining  or  describing  them  is  proved  by  the  familiar  fact,  that 
no  form  of  words  can  convey  the  slightest  notion  of  them  to 
a  person  blind  from  his  birth.  The  word  "  green "  may  be 
explained  by  saying  that  it  is  the  color  of  the  foliage,  or  "  blue  " 
as  the  color  of  the  sky;  and  this  is  enough  for  one  who  has 
seen  the  aspect  of  external  nature ;  but  it  is  no  definition,  and 
conveys  no  knowledge  to  him  who  has  never  had  the  faculty  of 
vision. 

The  idea  of  self  belongs  to  the  same  category  with  all  our 
simple  sensations,  and  with  the  more  abstruse  ideas  of  time, 
space,  motion,  and  the  Uke.  All  are  indejinable,  because  indi- 
visible;  they  cannot  be  described,  because  they  have  no  com- 
plexity of  parts.  But  who  doubts  our  knowledge,  or  questions 
the  reality,  of  motion^  or  light,  or  time,  because  they  cannot  be 
explained  by  any  form  of  words,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing, 
cannot  be  resolved  into  simpler  ideas  ?  The  unity  of  personality, 
then,  which  is  the  important  point  for  present  consideration,  is 
established  by  the  very  argument  which  is  brought  to  do  away 
with  the  reality  of  the  idea  of  person  altogether. 

The  ancient  philosophers  and  the  schoolmen  were  guilty  of 
much  solemn  trifling,  in  their  vain  attempts  to  define  these 
simple  ideas.  Thus  "motion"  was  explained  to  be  "the  act  of 
a  being  in  power  so  far  forth  as  in  power ; "  and  "  light "  to  be 
"  the  act  of  perspicuity  so  far  forth  as  it  is  perspicuous."  The 
inanity  and  uselessness  of  such  definitions  are  now  generally 
admitted,  though  Lord  Monboddo  attempted  to  defend  them. 
It  is  justly  observed  by  Locke,  that  "  the  modern  philosophers, 
who  have  endeavored  to  throw  off  the  jargon  of  the  schools,  and 

G 


62  THE    IDEA    OF   SELF,  OK    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE. 

epeak  intelligibly,  have  not  much  better  succeeded  in  defining 
simple  ideas,  whether  by  explaining  their  causes,  or  otherwise. 
The  atomists,  who  define  motion  to  be  a  passage  from  one  place 
to  another,  what  do  they  more  than  put  one  synonymous  word 
for  another  ?  For  is  it  not  at  ka&t  as  proper  and  significant  to 
say,  'passage  is  a  motion  from  one  place  to  another/  as  to  say, 
*  motion  is  a  passage  ? '  this  is  to  translate,  and  not  to  defined 
The  impossibility  of  defifuing  or  describing  an  idea,  therefore,  is 
FiO  argument  against  the  existence,  either  of  the  idea,  or  of  the 
thing  to  which  it  corresponds,  or  against  our  having  a  distinct 
knowledge  of  ife  as  a  reality.  Personality,  or  self,  is  as  fully 
known,  and  as  distinctly  conceived,  as  motion  or  light. 

No  analogy  between  the  qualities  of  matter  and  the  a^ts  of 
mind.  —  There  is  another  reason  for  denying  this  parallel 
between  raind  and  matter,  in  which  it  is  assumed,  that  our 
knowledge  of  each  is  merely  relative.  Material  substance,  it  is 
true,  is  known  to  me  only  as  something  w^hich  is  extended'y 
figured,  colored,  hard,  etc.,  these  qualities  being  aM  conceived 
to  exist  together,  or  at  the  same  moment ;  and  the  conception 
of  these  qualities  being  taken  away,  nothing  remains,  —  at  any 
rate,  nothing  w^hich  is  distinct  and  conceivable,  Now  mind  or 
I^erson  may  be  described  in  a  parallel  manner,  as  something 
which  thinks,  feels,  wills,  judges,  etc, ;  but  these  are  not  quali- 
ties, not  attributes,  but  aets ;  and  they  are  not  conceived  to 
exist  together,  or  to  be  performed  all  at  the  same  moment ;  they 
are  done  successively,  and  what  is  really  attributed  to  the  per- 
son at  any  one  moment  is,  not  the  aets  themselves,  but  the 
capacity  of  performing  those  acts.  Of  course,  I  can  conceive 
of  the  person  when  this  capacity  is  latent,  or  not  exerted,  —  that 
is,  of  mind  in  the  intervals  both  of  thought  and  action.  But  I 
cannot  conceive  of  any  particular  body  except  as  the  seat  of  all 
its  attributes,  and  as  continually  manifesting  these  attributes^ 
Imagine,  if  you  can,  a  lump  of  matter,  which  has  no  extension, 
no  figure,  no  solidity,  no  color,  —  none  of  its  usual  qualitiesv 
It  is  impossible.  But  you  can  conceive  of  yourself  both  as 
thinking,  or  as  lasting  from  thought ;  as  sentient,  or  with  all  the 
senses  closed  j   as  exerting  a  volition,  or  as  entirely  passive. 


THE  IDEA  OF  SELF,  OR  PERSONAL  EXISTENCE.     63 

Stating  the  same  argument  in  other  terms,  I  say  that  reasoning 
from  attributes  »or  qualities  to  the  substance  which  supports 
them,  is  a  proper  inference,  that  being  inferred  which  is  not 
directly  known  or  perceived ;  but  from  actions  to  an  agent  is 
no  inference  at  all,  but  a  mere  descent  from  an  abstraction  to  a 
reality,  —  the  object  of  immediate  knowledge  or  perception 
being,  not  the  act,  but  the  person  acting.  It  is  no  inference 
from  my  perception  of  a  triangle,  to  say  that  it  has  three  angles  ; 
this  is  a  part  of  the  perception,  a  part  of  the  meaning  or  defini- 
tion of  the  word.  But  the  existence  of  a  luminous  body  some- 
where, though  it  be  not  directly  seen,  is  an  inference  from  the 
light  which  it  diffuses,  and  which  is  seen. 

Self  is  one  and  indivisible.  —  I  have  dwelt  at  some  length  on 
this  point,  at  the  risk  of  seeming  tedious  and  abstruse,  because  it 
is  one  of  cardinal  importance,  and  this  doctrine  respecting  it  has 
not  been  clearly  set  forth  and  defended,  so  far  as  I  know,  by  any 
English  writer  on  the  philosophy  of  mind.  It  is  the  only  view 
which  seems  to  me  to  afford  positive  proof  of  the  immateriality 
of  the  soul,  or  the  person.  Matter  is  essentially  complex  and 
divisible  ;  the  smallest  particle  of  it  has  still  an  upper  and  an 
under-side,  and  we  can  conceive  of  these  two  being  separated 
from  each  other.  Mind,  or  person,  as  already  remarked,  is  es- 
sentially indivisible.  The  being  which  I  call  self  or,  to  use  the 
modern  jargon,  the  me,  is  an  absolute  unit.  For  a  person  to 
speak  of  himself  in  the  plural  number,  except  as  a  figure  of 
speech,  is  instantly  perceived  to  be  an  absurdity,  —  as  much  so, 
as  to  speak  of  a  round  square.  The  doctrine  of  atoms,  or  ulti- 
mate particles  in  matter,  however  convenient  it  may  be  as  an 
hypothesis,  for  representing  the  supposed  groundwork  of  certain 
facts  in  chemistry,  must  always  remain  a  hypothesis,  alike  inca- 
pable of  proof,  and  even  of  distinct  conception.  "  If  the  atomic 
theory  be  put  forward,"  says  Dr.  Whewell,  "  as  asserting  that 
chemical  elements  are  really  composed  of  atoms,  that  is,  of  such 
particles  not  further  divisible,  we  cannot  avoid  remarking,  that, 
for  such  a  conclusion  chemical  research  has  not  afforded,  nor 
can  afford,  any  satisfactory  evidence  whatever."     As  a  matter 


€4  THE   IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE. 

of  fact,  no  one  will  assert  that  we  can  arrive  at  ultimate  parti- 
cles in  matter,  or  ha\'^  sensible  evidence  that  they  exist. 

The  body  is  extraneous  to  the  man  himself.  —  Matter,  then,  is 
necessarily  divisible,  or  complex,  in  all  cases  ;  mind,  or  person, 
is  necessarily  indivisible;  for  a  denial  of  the  proposition  "7 
am  o«e,"  is  not  merely  false,  but  absurd,  this  being  a  truth  of 
intuition.  An  inevitable  corollary  from  this  doctrine  is,  that 
the  complex  material  frame,  with  its  numberless  adaptations 
and  arrangements,  in  which  this  being  is  lodged,  is  tridy  foreign 
from  the  man  himself,  having  a  kind  of  connection  with  him,  in 
reality,  but  one  degree  more  intimate  than  that  of  his  clothes. 
The  body  is  the  curiously  contrived  machine  through  which  the 
man  communicates  with  the  material  world.  It  needs  but  little 
reflection  to  convince  one,  that  his  corporeal  limbs  and  organs 
are  but  mechanical  means  and  tools  constantly  within  his  reach, 
controlled  by  his  single  intelHgence,  and  executing  the  behests 
of  his  undivided  will,  which  is  sovereign  in  its  own  domain. 
The  eye  is  but  his  instrument  to  see  with,  the  ear  is  his  trumpet 
for  communicating  sound  to  him,  the  leg  is  his  steed,  and  the 
arm  his  soldier.  These  outward  organs  and  implements  may 
tire  in  their  uses,  like  willing  servants  that  are  yet  overtasked  ; 
they  may  be  worn  out,  become  palsied,  and  decay ;  many  of 
them  may  even  be  severed  from  the  conscious  agent  whose 
property  they  are,  yet  the  loss  does  not  impair  the  sovereignty 
of  his  reason  or  the  unity  of  his  intelligence.  The  windows 
through  which  we  look  out  upon  the  material  world  may  be 
darkened,  but  the  memory  and  the  imagination  are  busy  within, 
and  the  scenes  which  delighted  our  youth  still  pass  before  us 
in  rapid  and  perpetual  succession.  Sleep  relaxes  the  strained 
muscles,  gives  repose  to  the  tired  limbs,  and  shuts  the  wearied 
sense,  the  actual  and  material  world  to  our  apprehension  ceas- 
ing to  exist;  but  the  mind,  the  man,  claims  no  rest  from  his  ap- 
propriate toil,  but  pursues  his  task  in  the  world  of  dreams.  All 
the  proper  and  exclusive  functions  of  the  soul  are  then  dis- 
charged as  readily  and  continuously  as  in  our  waking  hours. 
Reason  and  recollection,  judgment,  fancy,  the  desires  and  the 


THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,  OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE.  65 

affections,  still  exercise  their  office ;  and  the  will,  though  it  has 
lost  control  for  a  time  of  its  actual  servants  through  their  fa- 
tigue, still  governs  an  ideal  kingdom,  and  spurs  its  fancied  min- 
isters. There  is  no  good  reason  to  believe,  that  sleep  ever  ex- 
tends beyond  the  body,  or  suspends  the  exercise  of  a  single 
function  of  purely  intellectual  life. 

This  view  of  the  body  as  something  extraneous  to  the  man, 
as  alike  his  covering  and  his  instrument,  the  house  which  he 
lives  in,  and  the  nicely  fashioned  apparatus  that  executes  his 
will  and  gratifies  his  passions,  appears  to  me  so  natural  and 
obvious,  that  it  seems  difficult  to  account  for  the  practical  mate- 
rialism of  common  opinion  on  the  subject.  Even  the  respect 
which  is  paid  to  the  remains  of  the  dead,  so  far  as  it  goes  beyond 
the  pleasing  association  which  invests  with  a  kind  of  sacredness 
every  article  or  ornament  once  used  by  the  loved  and  lost, — 
and  in  ordinary  cases  it  goes  much  further,  —  seems  alike  irra- 
tional and  unchristian.  Many  portions  of  the  body  may  be 
removed,  many  of  the  organs  become  unfit  for  usC;,  without  im- 
pairing, in  the  slightest  degree,  the  sufferer's  conscious  personal- 
ity and  intelligence.  The  particles  of  the  whole  are  in  a  state 
of  constant  flux  and  renovation,  so  that  man  changes  his  body 
only  a  little  less  frequently  than  he  does  his  coat. 

Closeness  of  the  temporary  union  of  mind  with  body.  —  And 
viewed  at  any  one  moment,  however  close  and  intimate  the 
union  may  appear,  the  body  still  seems  to  show  its  ministerial 
character,  and  to  acknowledge  in  every  part  the  sovereignty  of 
one  undivided  and  separate  will.  Sensation  extends  to  every 
part  of  it,  every  fibre  is  instinct  with  life,  and  the  dominion  of 
the  will  is  absolute  and  immediate  over  every  muscle  and  joint, 
as  if  the  whole  fabric  and  its  tenant  were  one  homogeneous 
system.  The  mind  tires  not  of  its  supremacy,  and  is  not  wea- 
ried with  the  number  of  volitions  required  to  keep  every  joint 
•in  action,  and  every  organ  performing  its  proper  function.  It 
would  not  delegate  the  control  of  the  fingers  to  an  inferior  power, 
nor  contrive  mechanical  or  automatic  means  for  moving  the  ex- 
tremities. Within  its  sphere,  it  is  sole  sovereign,  and  is  not 
perplexed  with  the  variety  and  constant  succession  of  its  duties, 

6* 


66  THE   IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE. 

extending  to  every  part  of  the  complex  structure  of  which  it  is 
the  animating  and  directing  spirit.  Stinsation  is  not  cumbered 
with  the  muhitude  of  impressions  it  receives,  nor  is  the  fineness 
of  perception  dulled  by  repeated  exercise.  The  sharpness  of  its 
edge  rather  improves  by  use,  and  we  become  more  heedful  of 
its  lightest  intimations.  This  improvement,  however,  is  wholly 
of  the  inner  sense,  the  man's  capacity  being  enlarged,  while  the 
external  organ  which  is  his  instrument  —  the  eye,  for  instance 
—  is  often  injured  and  sometimes  destroyed  by  excessive  or 
unguarded  use.  "  It  does  not  appear,"  says  Bishop  Butler, 
"  that  the  relation  of  this  gross  body  to  the  reflecting  being  is  in 
any  degree  necessary  to  thinking ;  to  our  intellectual  enjoyments 
or  sufferings ;  nor,  consequently,  that  the  dissolution  or  aliena- 
tion of  the  former  by  death  will  be  the  destruction  of  those  pres- 
ent powers  which  render  us  capable  of  this  state  of  reflection." 
This  consideration,  indeed,  affords  no  proof,  properly  so  called, 
that  the  mind  is  immortal ;  but  it  rebuts  the  presumption,  other- 
wise inevitable,  that  the  death  of  the  body  is  also  the  death  of 
the  soul.  These  rags  of  mortality,  in  which  we  are  clothed, 
may  fall  off  from  us,  and  be  mingled  with  their  kindred  dust ; 
but  this  proves  only  that  we  have  no  further  use  for  them,  and 
and  it  leaves  unimpaired  the  probability,  that  death,  like  sleep, 
may  be  only  the  portal  to  a  spirit  land. 

I  have  heard  of  a  recent  case,  in  a  town  not  far  off,  in  which 
a  young  man,  when  just  entering  upon  active  life  and  the  full 
duties  of  manhood,  was  attacked  by  the  terrible  disease  which 
physicians  call  aticki/Iosis,  or  stiffening  of  the  joints.  First  one 
knee  refused  its  office  ;  and  as  this  was  accompanied  with  great 
pain,  and  perhaps  the  nature  of  the  complaint  was  mistaken,  the 
leg  was  amputated,  in  the  hope  that  the  evil  would  stop  there. 
But  the  disease  soon  passed  into  the  other  limb,  stiffened  the 
remaining  knee,  and  then  crept  on  slowly  from  joint  to  joint, 
making  each  inflexible  as  it  passed,  till  the  whole  lower  portion, 
of  the  body  was  nearly  as  rigid  as  iron,  and  the  muscles  had  no 
longer  any  office  to  perform.  Gradually,  then,  it  moved  up- 
ward, leaving  the  vertebral  column  inflexible ;  the  arms  and 
hands,  which,  in  anticipation  of  its  approach,  had  been  bent  into 


THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENOE.  67 

a  position  most  convenient  for  the  suflferer,  stiffened  there  ;  the 
neck  refused  to  turn  or  bend,  and  the  bodj  became  almost  as 
immovable  as  if  it  had  been  carved  out  of  the  rock.  Years 
passed  between  the  first  appearance  of  the  disease  and  this 
awful  completion  of  its  work ;  years  elapsed  afier  the  hapless 
patient  was  thus  hardened  into  stone,  and  still  he  lived.  Nor 
ivas  this  all ;  his  eyes  were  attacked ;  the  sight  of  one  was 
whoUy  lost,  and  tlie  other  became  so  exquisitely  sensitive,  th.it 
it  could  seldom  be  exposed  to  the  light,  and  never  but  for  a  few 
moments  at  a  time.  And  thus  he  remained  for  years,  blind, 
immovable,  prisoned  in  this  house  of  stone,  and  echoing,  we 
might  suppose,  the  affecting  exclamation  of  the  Apostle,  "  Who 
shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ?  "  But  no  woi'd 
of  impatience  escaped  him ;  the  mind  was  clear  and  vigorous, 
the  temper  was  n<?t  soured,  the  affections  were  as  strong  and 
elinging  as  ever.  His  good  sense,  his  wit,  his  knowledge  of 
books,  his  interest  in  the  passing  topics  of  the  day,  made  his 
chamber  a  favorite  resort  even  of  those  who  might  not  have 
been  drawn  thither  merely  by  sympathy  for  his  sufferings ;  for 
not  infrequently,  he  was  still  exposed  to  agonizing  pain.  But 
in  ^^%  intervals  of  this  distress,  his  active  mind  sought  and  found 
employment,  and  numerous  contributions,  which  this  living  statue 
dictated  for  a  periodical  work,  are  now  in  print.  The  secret  of 
his  wonderful  composure  and  gentleness  may  be  told  in  two 
words,  —  religious  resignation.* 

*  It  cannot  be  indelicate  nov/  to  state,  that  the  individual  here  referred 
to  was  the  late  James  Kennard,  Jr.,  of  Portsmouth,  New  Hampshire.  A 
volume  of  selections  from  his  writings,  with  a  sketch  of  his  life  and  cliar- 
acter,  prepared  by  his  friend  the  Eev.  Andrew  P.  Peabody,  has  been 
^'  printed  for  private  circulation."  Mr.  Kennard  died  July  28,  1847,  when 
he  had  nearly  completed  his  thirty-second  yean  For  nine  years  before  his 
-death  he  was  unable  to  walk ;  but  "  he  was  joccasionally  brought  down 
stairs  till  the  summer  of  1841,  when  he  found  that  he  could  no  longer  bear 
removal^  except  tliat,  with  the  most  careful  preparation,  and  with  tlio 
utmost  delicacy  of  touch,  he  was  taken  daily  from  his  bed,  and  placed  for 
an  hour  or  two  in  his  easy  chair."  In  November,  1844,  his  eyes  were 
attacked,  and  "  the  residue  of  his  life  was  spent  with  a  deep  shade  over  his 
face,  and  La  a  dai'kened  room."    During  the  paroxysms  of  pain  which  ac- 


68  THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    PERSONAL    EXISTENCE. 

"What  says  the  materialist  to  a  case  like  this  ?  Was  that 
powerless  body,  maimed,  stiffened,  blind,  hardly  animate, —  was 
that  the  person,  the  man,  still  active,  inquisitive,  industrious, 
generous,  and  affectionate  ?  or  was  it  only  a  prison-house,  in 
which  the  fettered  soul  was  compelled  to  await  its  time  of 
release  ?  I  envy  not  the  feelings  or  the  intellect  of  him  who 
could  stand  by  the  bedside  of  that  patient  sufferer,  and  still  dis^ 
believe  that  "  there  is  a  spirit  in  man,  and  the  inspiration  of  the 
Almighty  giveth  them  understanding." 

Philosophy  of  the  aneieiits  on  this  subject. — We  may  gather 
instruction  on  this  point  even  from  the  wise  men  of  ancient 
times,  upon  whose  eyes  the  light  of  direct  revelation  never 
dawned.  The  philosophical  Athenian,  in  describing  the  death- 
bed of  the  elder  Cyrus,  makes  the  dying  monarch  thus  address 
the  children  who  were  gathered  round  him: — "For  I  was 
never  able,  my  children,  to  persuade  myself  that  the  soul,  as 
long  as  it  was  in  a  mortal  body,  lived,  but  when  it  was  removed 
from  this,  that  it  died ;  neither  could  I  believe  that  the  soul 
ceased  to  think  when  separated  from  the  unthinking  and  sense- 
less body;  but  it  seemed  to  me  most  probable,  that  when  pure 
and  free  from  any  union  with  the  body,  then  it  became  most 
wise."  Or  take  the  equivalent  remark,  —  equivalent  in  respect 
to  the  essential  difference  between  mind  and  matter,  —  in 
which  Plato  anticipates  the  common  argument  for  the  immate- 
riahty  of  the  thinking  principle,  wliich  is  founded  an  the  con- 
stant flux  and  change  of  the  material  particles  that  make  up  our 
bodily  organs  :  —  "  One  would  rather  say,  that  each  soul  wears 
out  many  bodies,  especially  if  it  should  live  for  many  years  ;  for 


companied  this  inflammation  of  the  eyes,  and  which  were  generally  about 
a  week  in  diuation,  "  he  Avas  able  to  speak  only  in  the  faintest  whisper, 
and  could  hardly  bear  the  sound  of  another  voice/'  Rut  his  sisters  and 
numerous  friends  were  eager  to  sei-ve  as  his  readers  and  anjanuenses,  and 
his  literary  pursuits  were  soon  resumed  with  as  much  mental  actiyity  and 
cheerfulness  as  ever.  His  contributions,  both  in  verse  and  prose,  to  the 
Knickerbocker,  a  magazine  published  at  New  York,  may  be  traced  by  his 
signature  of  "J.  K.  Jr.";  they  were  frequent,  up  to  the  very  month  in 
which  he  died.  » 


THE    IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR   PERSONAL    EXISTENCE.  69 

if  the  body  wastes  away  and  is  destroyed,  the  man  yet  living, 
while  the  soul  always  weaves  anew  that  which  is  worn  out, 
then  it  certainly  follows,  that  the  soul  must  have  its  last  cover- 
ing when  it  perishes,  and  that  it  dies  only  just  before  that  final 
vesture." 

I  do  not  accumulate  these  arguments  and  illustrations  to  estab- 
lish the  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  proof  of 
which,  from  the  light  of  nature,  has  been  already  admitted  to 
be  insufficient.  The  essential  unity  of  the  person  is  contrasted 
with  the  essential  complexity  of  matter  only  to  show,  that  the 
body  is  but  the  house  we  live  in,  or  the  garment  which  covers 
us  for  a  season.  But  an  indivisible  atom  is  not  necessarily 
indestructible,  any  more  than  it  is  ingcnerable.  If  it  cannot 
•ease  to  exist,  it  must  be  that  it  exists  necessarily,  and,  there- 
fore, it  never  began  to  exist.  Hence,  the  argument  proves  the 
preexistence,  quite  as  strongly  as  it  does  the  immortality,  of  the 
soul ;  and  it  was  so  understood  by  Plato  and  his  followers,  who 
argue  from  the  antecedent  life  of  man  to  the  subsequent,  or  that 
which  follows  the  night  of  the  grave. 

The  affections  recognize  the  unity  and  continuity  of  self  — 
The  continuity  and  identity  of  our  personal  existence  amidst 
the  ceaseless  changes  and  renovations,  the  growth,  progress,  and 
decay,  of  the  material  structure  which  we  inhabit,  form  the  basis 
of  the  relations  in  which  we  stand  to  all  other  beings.  The 
affections  and  the  duties  of  life  are  equally  founded  upon  this 
unity  of  personality ;  this  alone  makes  us  responsible  both  to 
human  and  Divine  law.  "  Person^''  says  Locke,  "  is  a  forensic 
term,  appropriating  actions  and  their  merit,  and  so  belongs  only 
to  intelligent  agents,  capable  of  a  law,  and  of  happiness  and 
misery.  This  personality  extends  itself  beyond  present  exist- 
ence to  what  is  past  by  consciousness,  whereby  it  becomes  con- 
cerned and  accountable,  and  owns  and  imputes  to  itself  past 
actions  upon  the  same  ground,  and  for  the  same  reason,  that  it 
does  the  present.  And,  therefore,  whatever  past  actions  it  can- 
not reconcile  or  appropriate  to  itself,  it  can  no  more  be  con- 
cerned in  than  if  they  had  never  been  done." 

Our  social  feelings,  also,  regard  this  sameness  of  person,  or 


70  THE   IDEA    OF    SELF,    OR    TERSONAL    EXISTENCE. 

self,  behind  the  numerous  and  important  changes  which  our  out- 
ward frames  exhibit.  The  body  wastes,  the  skin  shrivels,  the 
joints  and  muscles  languidly  perform  their  office,  and  the  hair 
becomes  thin  and  gray.  Not  a  line  is  preserved,  in  that  bent 
and  decrepit  form,  of  the  fresh  and  elastic  vigor  of  youth,  of  the 
quick  eye,  ready  hand,  and  ruddy  lineaments  of  childhood  and 
maturer  years.  The  features  and  general  aspect  of  the  subject 
have  wholly  changed,  and  the  artist  must  begin  the  portrait 
anew.  Time  has  left  no  indistinct  traces  of  his  work,  also,  on 
the  character  and  intellect.  Enthusiasm  is  checked,  impulse 
has  given  way  to  reflection,  appetite  is  cooled,  and  the  enjoy- 
ments of  boisterous  youth  and  strenuous  manhood  pall  upon  the 
dulled  and  satiated  sense.  But  the  eye  of  affection  still  discerns 
the  same  person  beneath  the  altered  aspect,  and  the  father, 
brother,  son,  or  friend  is  loved  and  cherished  still.  Instinc- 
tively, in  the  growth  of  that  affection,  has  the  real  being,  the  man, 
been  separated  from  his  accidents,  from  his  whole  environment 
of  outward  circumstances,  including  those  of  form  and  feature, 
no  less  than  of  social  position  and  the  world's  contumely  or  re- 
spect. If  the  feehng  be  true,  the  object  of  it  is  one  and  indi- 
visible, and  knows  no  change.  Thus,  in  our  friends  as  well  as 
in  ourselves,  in  our  observation  and  judgment  of  others,  as  much 
as  in  the  depths  of  our  own  consciousness,  do  we  involuntarily 
separate  the  transient  from  the  permanent,  acknowledge  inherent 
and  essential  oneness  in  the  midst  of  complexity  and  transmu- 
tation, and  under  the  fading  vesture  of  time,  a  garment  laid  in 
shifting  colors,  discern  the  inflexible  features  of  eternity. 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  71 


CHAPTER    IV, 

THE  IDEA  OP  CAUSE,  AND  THE  NATURE  OF  CAUSATION. 

Smmnary  ef  the  last  chapter^  —  I  have  spoken  of  the  origin 
and  nature  of  our  idea  of  personality,  or  rather  of  our  knowledge 
of  self,  and  vindicated  that  knowledge  from  the  naetaphysical  ob- 
jections and  cavils  that  have  been  brought  against  it  by  abstract 
reasoning.  The  object  was,  to  establish  a  distinction,  not  merely 
between  material  and  intellectual  phenomena,  which  no  one  can 
affect  io  question,  but  between  the  substance  of  mind  or  person 
and  material  substance,  and  tJius  to  show  that  the  difference  be- 
tween them  is  essential,  instead  of  phenomenal ;  —  or,  in  other 
words,  that  this  difference  does  not  depend  merely  on  the  dis- 
similarity of  their  outward  manifestations.  I  wished  to  prove, 
that  we  have  no  idea  whatever  of  material  substance,  except  by 
abstraction,  and  no  proof  of  its  existence,  except  by  inference 
from  its  qualities  or  attributes,  of  which  alone  we  have  any  im- 
mediate knowledge.  But  personaRty  manifests  itself  externally, 
not  by  qualities^  but  by  actions  ;  and  these  occur,  not  simultane^ 
ously,  but  in  succession  ;  while  self,  and  the  perception  of  self, 
or  consciousness,  being  continuous,  we  know  it  in  the  intervals 
of  thought  or  action,  and  consequently  our  knowledge  of  it  is 
direct,  and  not  merely  an  inference.  We  know,  also,  that  person 
is  absolutely  simple  and  indivisible,  and  is  thus  distinguishable 
from  its  present  house  of  flesh,  or  bodily  covering,  which,  like 
all  other  matter,  is  essentially  complex  and  infinitely  divisible, 
and  which,  in  fact,  is  going  through  a  constant  process  of  waste 
and  restoration,  the  man  alone  remaining  unchanged.  This 
conclusion,  far  from  being  metaphysical  in  character,  is  a  fact 
of  universal  and  continuous  observation,  and  as  such  is  inwoven 
with  our  principles  of  conduct ;  it  supports  the  idea  of  responsi- 
bility, and  forms  the  basis  of  the  social  affections. 

The  idea  and  ike  law  of  causation.  —  The  fact  which  we  have 


«■ 


THE   IDEA    OF   CAUSE, 


thus  attempted  to  establish  is  one  of  the  first  class,  as  it  relates 
to  things  which  exist ;  a  consideration  of  the  second  class,  or  of 
events  which  take  place,  brings  us  to  the  idea  of  cause,  or  the 
beginning  of  existence.  The  inquiry  into  the  origin  and  nature 
of  this  idea  is  a  fundamental  one,  as  in  the  former  case ;  for  on 
its  issue  depends  every  reasonable  anticipation  of  future  events, 
and  all  real  knowledge  of  those  which  have  passed.  The  exact 
sciences  relate  exclusively  to  present  existences ;  the  mathema- 
tician studies  the  laws  of  number  and  of  space,  both  of  which 
are  applicable  to  simultaneous  phenomena.  Events  are  suc- 
cessive phenomena ;  and  the  study  of  them  carries  us  both  into 
the  past  and  the  future,  and  depends  in  almost  every  case  upon 
our  notion  of  cause. 

The  law  of  causation  may  be  stated  thus  :  —  Every  event  which 
takes  place  has  a  cause.  This  law  is  not  applicable  to  things 
which  exist,  and  much  confusion  and  unsound  reasoning  have 
arisen  from  the  attempt  to  extend  it  to  them.  I  cannot  infer 
merely  from  the  present  existence  of  a  stone,  a  plant,  or  an  ani- 
mal, that  it  must  have  had  a  cause ;  for  all  I  know,  it  may  have 
existed  for  ever.  But  if  already  aware  of  the  feet,  that  at  some 
definite  epoch  it  hegan  to  exist,  that  time  was  when  it  was  not, 
then  I  say,  with  absolute  certainty,  that  that  beginning  of  its 
existence  must  have  been  caused  by  something  foreign  to  itself; 
or,  more  loosely  speaking,  that  the  thing  itself  must  have  had  a 
cause.  If  all  things  in  the  universe  were  motionless  and  un- 
changeable, if  no  event  whatever  broke  the  dread  uniformity  and 
monotony  of  time,  though  all  objects  should  remain  precisely  as 
they  are  at  this  moment,  there  would  be  no  foundation  for  rea- 
soning from  effect  to  cause.  The  presence  of  a  world  would  not 
enable  us  to  prove  the  existence  of  its  Creator.  But  the  instant 
a  change  occurs,  as  soon  as  a  sound  is  heard,  or  a  leaf  falls,  or 
only  quivers  on  its  bough,  we  declare  without  hesitation,  that 
some  power  or  agency  is  at  work ;  that  the  event  must  have  had 
a  cause.  It  may  be  a  recondite  one  ;  the  ingenuity  of  man  may 
have  been  engaged  ever  since  the  foundation  of  the  world  in  a 
vain  attempt  to  discover  it ;  still  we  say  with  perfect  confidence, 
that  it  must  have  existed ;  there  must  have  been  a  cause  some- 
where. 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  73 

Efficient  causation  distinguished  from  mere  succession.  —  I 
speak  now  of  causation  in  its  absolute  and  literal  sense,  —  not 
merely  of  an  antecedent  event,  but  of  an  efficient  antecedent,  — 
of  a  cause  in  respect  to  which,  if  it  were  completely  known,  we 
could  tell  beforehand,  or  prior  to  all  experience,  what  would  be 
its  effect.  Those  who  are  familiar  with  the  speculations  of 
philosophers  upon  this  subject  will  tell  me,  that  T  am  here 
adopting  the  metaphysical  notion  of  cause  ;  I  admit  it,  but  I  say 
that  it  is  also  the  popular  notion,  the  ordinary  significance  of  a 
very  common  word,  —  that  people  generally  never  think  of  at- 
taching any  other  idea  to  it,  and  never  find  any  difficulty  in 
distinguishing  the  succession  of  cause  and  effect,  properly  so 
called,  from  an  ordinary  sequence,  or  from  the  accidental  simul- 
taneousness  of  two  otherwise  unconnected  events.  The  falling 
of  the  spark,  they  say,  is  the  cause  of  the  explosion,  meaning 
thereby  the  efficient  cause  ;  and  they  distinguish  this  case  very 
clearly  from  that  of  two  clocks  striking  the  hour  in  immediate 
guccession,  never  supposing,  in  this  latter  instance,  that  the  one 
operates  on  the  other,  and  obliges  it  to  strike,  though  they  may 
Itave  kept  exact  time  with  each  other  for  many  years.  '■'■Causa 
autem  ea  est,  quce  id  efficit,  cujus  est  causa.  Non  sic  causa  in- . 
telligi  debet,  ut,  quod  cuique  antecedat,  id  ei  causa  sit,  sed  quod 
cuique  efficienter  antecedat^  This  fact,  that  the  popular  accep- 
tation of  the  word  cause  is  also  its  strict  and  scientific  meaning, 
it  is  important  to  remember,  as  will  be  seen  hereafter. 

True  causes  cannot  he  discovered  in  the  world  of  matter. — 
Now,  in  ordinary  physical  inquiry,  in  the  world  of  matter,  are 
we  able  to  perceive  and  recognize  such  causes  ?  Admitting,  as 
every  rational  being  must  do,  that  every  event,  change,  or  be- 
ginning of  existence  must  have  an  efficient  cause,  can  we  dis- 
cover this  cause,  and  show  beforehand  that  it  must  produce  this 
particular  event,  and  no  other,  and  why  it  produces  it  ?  The 
answer  may  appear  startling  to  some,  but  there  is  no  doubt  of 
its  correctness.  If  there  is  any  one  conclusion  at  which  both 
physical  and  metaphysical  inquirers,  after  a  long  dispute,  have 
at  last  ari'ived  with  almost  complete  accord,  it  is  this  :  —  that  we 
are  not  able  to  discern  the  real  cause  of  any  event  or  change  in 

7 


74  THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE. 

the  outward  universe,  and  that  the  search  after  such  causes  is 
hopeless ;  —  in  the  outward  universe,  or  world  of  matter,  I  say, 
because  the  case  of  mind  must  be  considered  afterwards.  We 
do  not  know,  that  the  falling  of  the  spark  was  the  cause  of  the 
explosion  of  the  powder ;  most  probably,  it  was  not.  We  do 
not  know,  that  the  man's  taking  poison  was  the  cause  of  his 
death ;  most  likely,  it  was  not.  This  statement  is  not  meant  to 
be  paradoxical,  but  simply  explicit  and  clear;  I  hope  to  prove 
satisfactorily  that  it  is  well  founded. 

Observe,  then,  that  all  which  we  discern,  in  any  case,  is  the 
events  themselves,  and  not  the  connection  between  those  events. 
I  see  the  falling  of  the  spark ;  I  see  and  hear  the  explosion 
which  immediately  follows.  I  have  sensible  evidence  only  of 
this,  —  that  two  events  happened  simultaneously  and  in  rapid 
succession.  Recollecting  other  instances,  or  learning  them  from 
the  testimony  of  others,  I  may  have  reason  to  believe,  that 
these  two  events  have  always  taken  place  together,  or  that  the 
one  has  never  occurred  without  being  immediately  followed  by 
the  other.  Believing,  also,  that  the  course  of  nature  is  uniform, 
it  seems  very  probable,  that  this  succession  will  always  take 
place  in  future.  I  perceive  nothing  but  the  events ;  I  know 
that  they  are  simultaneous,  or  nearly  so ;  and  this  is  all  that  I 
know.  I  do  not  see  any  necessary  connection  between  them ; 
and  if  I  hastily  infer,  that  there  must  be  such  a  connection, 
because  the  two  always  happen  in  close  succession,  the  case  of 
the  two  clocks  reminds  me  that  invariable  antecedence  and  con- 
sequence do  not  prove  any  connection  whatever.  Cause  implies 
power  or  force,  which  is  never  directly  perceived ;  but  we  infer 
that  it  exists,  because  the  event  happens,  or  the  effect  is  pro- 
duced. 

It  is  often  loosely  said,  that  one  event  is  the  cause  of  another, 
when  the  two  are,  in  fact,  separated  by  quite  a  long  succession 
of  intermediate  causes.  Thus,  it  is  said,  that  the  stroke  of  the 
hammer  on  the  bell  is  the  cause  of  the  sound  which  we  hear ; 
strictly  speaking,  however,  this  stroke  only  precedes  an  agita- 
tion of  the  particles  of  which  the  bell  is  composed ;  this  agita- 
tion is  said   to  cause  a  vibration   in  the  elastic  medium,  the 


THE    IDEA    OP   CAUSE.  75 

air,  which  extends  to  our  ears ;  this  vibration  seems  to  pro- 
duce a  change,  in  the  auditory  nerve  ;  which  is  followed,  prob- 
ably, by  some  affection  of  a  part,  or  of  the  whole  mass,  of  the 
brain  ;  and  then  comes,  at  last,  our  sensation  of  sound.  In  this 
final  sequence,  which  involves  the  connection  between  mind  and 
matter,  we  are  ready  to  admit,  that  we  know  only  the  fact,  that 
the  affection  of  the  brain  is  followed  by  a  sensation,  and  do  not 
know  the  cause  of  this  fact,  or  the  reason  why  it  is  thus  fol- 
lowed. We  are  led  to  make  this  admission,  because  our  power 
of  detecting  intermediate  sequences  stops  here ;  we  cannot 
point  out  any  links  of  connection  between  the  effect  on  the  brain 
and  the  sensation,  as  we  did  between  the  stroke  of  the  hammer 
and  the  agitation  of  the  nerve.  The  former  sequence,  then,  is 
admitted  to  be  an  ultimate  fact,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  we 
say  that  the  cause  of  it  is  inexplicable.  Yet  it  is  certain  that 
we  ought  to  make  the  same  admission  as  to  all  the  other  se- 
quences, each  one  of  which,  taken  by  itself,  is  an  ultimate  fact, 
and  equally  inexplicable.  Why  should  a  blow  from  a  hammer 
be  diffused  over  a  considerable  surface,  so  as  to  throw  all  the 
particles  of  a  large  bell,  made  of  solid  metal,  into  agitation  ?  We 
do  not  know.  But  this  is  one  instance  out  of  a  large  class  of 
similar  ones  ;  we  are  accustomed  to  perceive  concussion  followed 
by  agitation  of  the  parts  of  the  two  bodies  which  strike  together, 
and  this  familiarity  of  the  fact  makes  it  seem  less  inexplicable  ; 
it  is  not  wonderful  or  strange,  because  we  know  a  vast  number 
of  similar  cases,  and,  therefore,  we  suppose  it  is  not  difficult  to 
be  understood.  In  truth,  we  know  nothing  about  it,  except  that 
one  event  is  invariably  followed  by  the  other ;  and  this  knowl- 
edge of  constant  succession,  as  we  have  seen,  is  very  differ- 
ent indeed  from  a  perception  of  the  efficient  cause. 

Hoio  the  physical  inquirer  is  said  to  discover  causes.  —  What 
is  meant,  then,  when  we  speak  of  the  success  of  the  physical 
inquirer,  —  the  chemist,  the  meteorologist,  or  the  mechanist,  for 
instance,  —  in  pointing  out  the  causes  of  material  phenomena  ? 
We  mean,  that  he  has  succeeded  in  detecting  some  of  these 
intermediate  sequences,  and  in  showing,  that  they  are  of  tiie 
same  character  with  a  class  of  other  well-known  facts,  all  of 


76  THE    IDEA    OP    CAUSE. 

which  are  supposed  to  have  a  common  causey  though  we  have 
never  tliought  of  asking  what  that  cause  is.  A  phenomenon, 
which  formerly  appeared  to  be  anomalous,  or  the  only  specimen 
of  its  class,  is  in  this  manner  reduced  to  the  same  rank  or  class 
with  a  great  number  of  familiar  events.  The  discovery,  then, 
consists  in  finding  out  the  proper  classification  of  the  fact,  not  in 
ascertaining  its  cause.  And,  further,  when  we  have  a  great 
number  of  phenomena,  so  similar  in  character  that  it  is  reason- 
able to  believe  they  are  all  produced  by  one  cause,  though  we 
know  not  what  that  cause  is,  yet  we  give  a  name  to  it.  And 
afterwards,  should  any  fact,  apparently  anomalous,  or  of  a  dif- 
ferent order,  be  reduced  to  this  class,  then  the  name  becomes 
applicable  to  this  fact  also,  and  we  say,  in  ordinary  parlance, 
that  the  cause  of  it  is  discovered.  Let  me  illustrate  this  a  little 
further. 

Gravity  is  a  law,  bict  not  an  efficient  cause.  —  When  Newton 
discovered  that  the  planets  circle  round  the  sun  in  the  same 
manner  in  which  a  stone  thrown  by  the  hand  describes  a  curve 
before  reaching  the  earth,  he  may  be  said  to  have  explained  the 
former  phenomenon,  by  bringing  it  into  the  same  class  with  cer- 
tain results  which  have  long  been  familiar  to  us.  But  the 
explanation  was  only  relative,  not  absolute.  The  latter  phe- 
nomenon is,  in  reality,  no  more  explicable  than  the  former ;  he 
did  not  pretend  to  know  the  cause  of  the  stone's  falling  to  the 
ground,  any  more  than  of  the  revolution  of  the  planets.  It  was 
something  to  be  able  to  arrange  these  apparently  heterogeneous 
results  in  the  same  class,  and  gravity  was  a  convenient  name  to 
apply  to  the  whole.  But  the  supposition  that  gravity  was  an 
occult  cause,  inherent  in  matter,  Newton  earnestly  repelled, 
declaring  that  it  was  inconceivable,  and  that  the  motions  "  must 
be  caused  by  an  agent,  acting  constantly  according  to  certain 
laws."  —  So  Franklin  showed,  that  a  thundercloud  and  the 
charged  conductor  of  an  electrical  machine  manifested  the  same 
phenomena,  and  might,  therefore,  be  classed  together ;  sparks 
were  obtained  from  both  ;  Leyden  jars  w-ere  charged  from  them ; 
light  bodies  were  attracted  and  repelled,  in  the  same  way,  by 
both ;  —  so  that  it  was  reasonable  to  believe,  that  the  same 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  77 

agency,  whatever  it  might  he,  was  acting  in  both  cases.  "What 
this  agency  was,  he  did  not  even  guess.  The  cause  of  electric 
action,  whether  in  the  excited  cloud  or  in  the  excited  tube,  was 
just  as  obscure  as  ever.  —  Once  more  ;  chemists  observed,  that 
different  substances,  when  brought  into  close  contact,  sometimes 
remained  distinct,  and  sometimes  united  with  each  other,  in 
various,  but  regular,  proportions  ;  and  these  capacities,  of  coal- 
escing with  one  class  of  bodies,  and  of  remaining  unaffected  by 
another,  are  called  chemical  "  affinities."  This  is  a  convenient 
generalization,  and  has  properly  received  a  specific  name ; 
though  the  common  appellation  throws  no  light  on  the  m,use  of 
the  phenomenon,  which  remains  an  impenetrable  secret.  To 
say,  that  a  certain  action  is  caused  by  the  operation  of  chemical 
affinities,  is  only  to  arrange  it  with  a  large  class  of  other  ob- 
served appearances,  equally  obscure  as  to  their  origin  and  essen- 
tial character,  but  agreeing  so  far  as  to  render  it  probable  that 
one  cause,  could  it  ever  he  discovered,  would  be  found  common 
to  them  all. 

Further  discoveries  woiddnot  reveal  true  causes.  —  Now  let  us 
go  a  step  further,  and  suppose,  that  the  progress  of  discovery 
has  made  known  certain  facts  lying  behind  the  phenomena  in 
question,  to  which  they  may  all  be  referred.  Let  us  suppose, 
that  all  bodies  which  gravitate  towards  each  other,  are  found  to 
be  embosomed  in  a  subtile,  ambient  fluid,  which  connects  them, 
as  it  were,  into  one  system ;  that  the  positive  and  negative 
states  of  electricity  are  resolvable  into  the  presence  of  two 
fluids,  standing  in  certain  relations  to  each  other ;  and  that  sub- 
stances show  chemical  affinity  for  each  other  only  when  they 
are  in  opposite  electrical  conditions.  Still,  we  have  only 
advanced  a  step  in  the  generalization,  and  the  real,  efficient 
cause  of  the  appearances  is  still  hidden  from  us  by  an  impene- 
trable veil.  Gravitation  is  now  referred  to  the  communication 
of  motion  by  impulse ;  electricity,  to  the  combination  and  sep- 
aration of  different  fluids  ;  affinity,  to  the  attraction  or  repulsion 
of  these  fluids.  The  latter  classes  of  phenomena  are  more  gen- 
eral, but  not  a  whit  more  explicable,  than  the  former.  We  have 
now  fewer  causes  to  seek  for,  but  not  one  of  these  few  has  been 

7* 


78  THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE. 

discovered.  When  we  luive  resolved  electricity,  or  gravitation, 
into  the  presence  of  an  elastic  medium,  it  is  a  mere  figure  of 
speech,  to  say  that  we  have  discovered  the  cause  of  the  electric 
phenomena,  or  of  gravity.     That  is  just  as  far  off  as  ever. 

Relative  distinguisJted  from  absolute  knowledge.  —  One  is  often 
amused  Avith  the  tendency  of  the  special  students  of  a  particular 
science,  to  exaggerate  the  importance  and  precision  of  the  les- 
sons which  it  teaches,  or  of  improvements  which  have  recently 
been  made  in  its  theory.  The  geologist,  for  instance,  informs  us 
that  the  date  of  certain  great  changes  which  have  taken  place 
in  the  #arth's  crust,  is  fully  and  clearly  ascertained ;  though  he 
knows  only,  that  the  acts  of  disruption  and  upheaving  were  sub- 
sequent to  the  deposition  of  the  rocks  in  strata,  or  that  the  Silu- 
rian formation  is  older  than  the  chalk.  But  if  asked  how  old 
the  chalk  is,  he  can  only  say,  that  it  is  younger  than  the  Silu- 
rian ;  and  to  the  question,  when  the  rocks  were  deposited,  his 
answer  is,  Before  they  were  upheaved.  We  know  not  the 
dates  of  either  of  these  events,  or  how  long  the  intervals  were 
that  separated  them,  even  by  approximation,  or  within  millions 
of  years.  Obviously,  then,  our  knowledge  of  them  is  not  abso- 
lute, but  relative. 

The  case  is  precisely  similar  with  the  discoveries  of  science 
respecting  the  causes  of  material  phenomena.  The  astronomer 
tells  us,  that  the  cause  of  the  planets  revolving  in  elliptical  or- 
bits is  probably  the  same  as  that  which  brings  a  stone  to  the 
ground :  but  if  asked  why  the  stone  falls,  his  answer  must  be, 
Probably  from  the  same  force  which  carries  our  earth  round 
the  sun.  Observe,  now,  the  errors  that  arise  from  the  use  of 
language,  and  the  facility  with  which  words  are  often  imposed 
upon  us  in  the  place  of  knowledge.  To  this  unknown  cause, 
which  is  only  conjectured  to  be  the  same  in  the  two  cases,  the 
name  oi  gravity  is  applied  ;  and  then,  to  either  of  the  questions 
that  I  liave  propounded,  the  man  of  science  wisely  answers,  that 
gravity  is  the  cause  of  the  phenomenon ;  and  by  most  persons 
this  answer  is  held  to  be  sufficient,  as  it  seems  to  offer  a  known 
and  adequate  cause.  But  it  is  not  so ;  gravity  is  only  the  mode 
in  which  the  machine  works^  —  not  the  cause  of  that  motion.     If 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  .79 

asked  by  a  child,  why  the  hands  of  a  clock  move  so  steadily  and 
uniformly  round  its  face,  it  would  not  be  very  satisfactory  to 
reply,  that  regularity  is  the  cause  of  the  motion  ;  to  give  the  lit- 
tle inquirer  any  real  light  upon  fhe  subject,  we  must  open  the 
case,  show  the  internal  machinery,  and  trace  back  the  compli- 
cated action  to  the  descent  of  a  weight.  Just  so  we  can  observe 
the  regularity  with  which  the  hands  move  over  the  great  dial- 
plate  of  nature,  which  marks  out  time  for  us  in  the  heavens ; 
and  we  may  call  that  regularity  gravitation,  if  we  please  ;  but 
human  beings  are  like  children,  who  are  not  permitted  to  open 

the  clock-case.* 

♦ 

*  What  are  gena-al  laws,  or  laivs  of  nature,  as  they  are  generally  termed  1 
Few  phrases  are  more  frequently  and  glibly  used  than  these,  yet  in  the 
minds  of  most  persons,  they  have  but  a  vague  and  uncertain  signification. 
It  is  worth  while,  then,  to  attempt  to  gain  some  clear  and  precise  notions 
respecting  them. 

A  law  of  nature  is  nothing  more  than  a  general  fact,  or  rather  a  general 
statement,  comprehending  under  it  many  similar  individual  facts.  A  law  is  the 
result  of  a  classification,  and  .individual  things  are  classed  together  on  ac- 
count of  some  similarity  or  uniformity  that  has  been  discovered  between 
them. 

1.  Objects  that  exist  are  classed  together  on  account  of  their  resemblance 
to  each  other.  Such  classification  may  consist  of  several  successive  steps, 
and  is  the  proper  work  of  Natural  History.  Thus,  all  objects  whatsoever 
are  divided  into  three  great  kingdoms,  the  Animal,  the  Vegetable,  and  the 
Mineral.  The  Animal  kingdom  is  subdivided  into  four  classes.  Verte- 
brates, Molluscs,  Articulates,  and  Radiates  or  Zoophiles.  The  General  Fact, 
that  all  the  animals  so  classed  possess  the  organ  or  property,  which  is  the 
characteristic  of  the  class,  is  called  a  Law  of  Nature.  It  is  a  Law  of  Na- 
ture, for  instance,  that  all  Vertebrates  have  a  spinal  cord  and  a  skull  in- 
closing the  brain.  Another  Law  of  Nature  is,  that  every  animal  is  pro- 
duced from  an  egg. 

2.  Events  that  take  place,  also,  are  classed  together  on  account  of  their 
uniformity.  Thus,  it  is  a  General  Fact,  or  Law  of  Nature,  that  pressure 
on  a  fluid  is  propagated  equally  in  all  directions,  and  that  a  heavy  body, 
if  unsupported,  falls  to  the  earth.  Many  of  these  General  Facts  are  so 
familiar,  that  we  never  think  of  formally  enunciating  them  ;  "  no  science," 
says  J.  S.  Mill,  "  was  needed  to  teach  men  that  food  nourishes,  that  water 
drowns,  or  quenches  thirst,  that  the  sun  gives  light  and  heat,  that  bodies 
fall  to  the  ground."  These  laws,  also,  are  not  necessary  truths,  but  are 
founded  on  mere  induction,  ^— often  on  a  not  very  extensive  one.  A 
newly  discovered  metal,  being  found,  by  a  single  experiment,  to  be  fusible 


80  THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE. 

Unifonnity  of  the  effects  does  not  always  indicate  a  common 
cause.  —  I  have  said,  that  the  unknown  cause  is  only  conjectured 
to  be  the  same  in  the  two  cases ;  this  is  an  important  further 
hmitation  of  our  knowledge  §f  the  subject,  and  naturally  leads 
us  to  ask,  how  trustworthy  are  the  grounds  of  this  conjecture. 
If  an  observer  from  another  planet,  utterly  ignorant  of  the  acr 
tions,  and  the  reasons  of  action,  of  men  like  ourselves,  were  to 
survey,  from  a  distance,  the  evolutions  of  large  bodies  of  troops 
on  a  parade-ground  or  a  battle-field,  he  could  not  fail  to  be 
struck  by  the  precision  and  uniformity  of  their  movements,  the 
preservation  of  the  ranks  and  files  in  right  lines,  and  the  simul- 
taneous changes  in  the  position  ana  direction  of  their  arms.  If 
he  were  to  inquire,  upon  the  principles  of  human  science,  into 
the  cause  of  these  regular  and  parallel  motions,  he  would  prob- 

at  a  certain  temperature,  it  is  at  once  declared  to  be  a  Law  of  Nature,  that 
it  does  melt,  always  has  melted,  and  always  will  melt,  at  the  ascertained 
degree  of  heat.  It  is  certainly  possible,  though  not  probable,  that  another 
piece  of  the  metal  may  be  discovered  which  •^\\\  not  melt  at  this  tempera- 
ture. A  particular  event,  comprehended  under  the  statement  of  a  Law, 
is  not  properly  said  to  be  he  caused  by  the  Laiv,  but  only  to  be  a  case,  or  in- 
stance, happening  under  the  Law.  A  cow  does  not  suckle  its  calf  because  it 
is  called  a  Mammifer,  but  it  is  called  a  Mammifer  because  it  suckles  its 
calf.  So,  it  is  not  a  law  of  Hydrostatics,  which  causes  water  to  remain  at 
the  same  level  in  the  two  arms  of  a  bent  tube ;  but  the  fact,  that  the  water 
stands  at  this  level,  is  ranked  among  many  other  facts,  which  are  compre- 
hended under  the  general  statement,  called  a  Law,  of  Hydrostatics.  Grav- 
itation does  not  make  the  stone  fall,  but  the  particular  fact,  that  this  stone 
fell,  is  comprehended  under  the  General  Fact,  or  Law,  of  Gravitation.  In 
like  manner,  Gravitation  does  not  make  the  earth  revolve  in  an  elliptical 
orbit  round  the  sun ;  but  the  fact  that  the  earth  revolves  in  this  manner, 
is  ranked  with  the  falling  of  a  stone,  and  with  many  other  facts  of  a  simi- 
lar character^  under  the  general  statement,  or  Law,  of  Gravitation. 

Hence  it  is  abundantly  evident,  to  adopt  Mr.  Mill's  language,  that  "  the 
expression.  Laws  of  Nature,  means  nothing  but  the  uniformities  which  ex- 
ist among  natural  phenomena,  when  reduced  to  their  simplest  expression." 
The  Laws  of  Nature  do  not  account  for,  or  explain,  the  phenomena  of  nature ; 
they  only  describe  them.  Description  and  classification  are  the  sole  em- 
ployments of  Physical  science. 

To  account  for,  or  explain,  the  operations  of  nature,  we  must  have  re- 
course to  Metaphysics  —  to  something  after,  or  above,  nature.  We  must 
ascend  to  the  notion  of  Cause. 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  81 

ably  attribute  it  to  the  action  of  some  one  force,  inexplicable  to 
him,  situated  at  the  centre  of  the  field,  and  operating  uni- 
formly on  every  rank,  and  on  every  individual  in  the  ranks ; 
and  he  would  proceed  to  lay  down  the  laws  of  its  operation,  — 
that  is,  to  note  the  order  of  the  marches  and  countermarches, 
and  to  make  out  the  whole  theory  of  these  complicated  evolu- 
tions. So  long  as  discipline  continued,  his  theory,  doubtless, 
would  be  a  very  satisfactory  one.  But  if  he  waited  till  the 
order  of  review  or  battle  was  broken  up  for  the  night,  he  would 
see,  to  his  astonishment,  the  soldiers  scattering  in  all  directions, 
and  a  universal  hubbub  following  that  scene  of  order  and 
method.  He  would  perceive  that  there  was  nothing  mechan- 
ical  in  the  Avhole  matter,  but  that  each  soldier  had  a  distinct 
principle  of  action,  a  separate  will  and  a  separate  power  of  mo- 
tion; and  although,  for  some  unknown  reason,  all  had  deter- 
mined to  act  in  concert  for  a  time,  preserving  their  ranks  and 
mechanically  imitating  each  other,  still,  for  each  movement  of 
each  individual,  there  was  an  independent  volition  and  a  dis- 
tinct personal  cause.  It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  apply  the 
illustration ;  substitute  weighty  bodies,  or  masses  of  matter,  for 
soldiers  and  companies  of  soldiers,  and  you  have  in  this  theory 
the  exact  counterpart  of  the  scientific  man's  theory  of  the  uni- 
verse, as  it  is  commonly  understood.  I  do  not  yet  say  that  the 
theory  is  false,  especially  if  it  be  rightly  interpreted  ;  I  am  only 
showing  what  is  the  nature  of  the  evidence  which  entitles  us  to 
attribute  all  similar  phenomena  to  the  operation  of  a  single 
cause,  when  we  know  not,  and  never  can  know,  the  nature  of 
that  cause. 

But  I  have  gone  far  enough,  perhaps,  to  vindicate  the  asser- 
tion with  which  I  began,  —  that  we  are  not  able  to  discern  the 
real  or  efficient  cause  of  any  event  or  change  in  the  outward 
universe.  This  inability  is  now  admitted,  so  fai*  as  I  know,  by 
every  scientific  writer  of  any  reputation,  either  in  physics  or 
metaphysics,  excepting  Dr.  Whewell,  whose  anticipations  of  the 
triumphs  of  science  are  rather  more  glowing  than  profound.  I 
borrow  a  clear  statement  of  the  truth  on  this  subject  from  Mr. 
Mill,  as  a  single  authority  will  be  enough. 


82  THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE. 

"  What  is  called  explaining  one  law  of  nature  by  another,"  he 
observes,  "  is  but  substituting  one  mystery  for  another,  and  does 
nothing  to  render  the  general  course  of  nature  other  than  mys- 
terious ;  we  can  no  more  assign  a  why  for  the  more  extensive 
laws  than  for  the  partial  ones.  The  explanation  may  substitute 
a  mystery  which  has  become  familiar,  and  has  grown  to  seem  not 
mysterious,  for  one  which  is  still  strange.  And  this  is  the 
meaning  of  explanation  in  common  parlance.  But  the  process 
with  which  we  are  here  concerned  often  does  the  very  contrary ; 
it  resolves  a  phenomenon  with  which  we  are  familiar,  into  one 
of  which  we  previously  knew  little  or  nothing ;  as  when  the 
common  fact  of  the  fall  of  heavy  bodies  is  resolved  into  a  ten- 
dency of  all  particles  of  matter  towards  one  another.  It  must 
be  kept  constantly  in  view,  therefore,  that  when  philosophers 
speak  of  explaining  any  of  the  phenomena  of  nature,  they  al- 
ways mean,  pointing  out  some,  not  more  familiar,  but  merely 
some  more  general,  phenomenon,  of  which  it  is  a  partial  exem- 
plification, or  some  laws  of  causation  which  produce  it  by  their 
joint  or  successive  action,  and  from  which,  therefore,  its  con- 
ditions may  be  determined  deductively." 

How  physical  science  is  useful.  —  Lest  some  should  think  that 
this  doctrine  tends  to  discredit  physical  science,  by  pointing  out 
the  narrowness  of  its  scope,  and  the  hopelessness  of  all  attempts 
to  go  beyond  it,  let  me  observe,  that  the  field  of  research  is  not 
at  all  diminished,  but  the  objects  in  it  are  called  by  their  right 
names,  and  made  to  appear  in  their  true  character.  These 
sequences  of  phenomena,  or  invariable  conjunctions  of  events, 
which  were  improperly  supposed  to  be  related  to  each  other  as 
cause  and  effect,  are  still,  when  stripped  of  this  supposititious 
relation,  impoi'tant  objects  of  study,  and  the  discovery  of  new  ones 
will  affect  the  calculations  and  conduct  of  men  just  as  much  as 
ever.  To  return  to  the  examples  first  given,  we  do  not  know 
that  the  spark  was  the  cause  of  the  explosion,  or  that  taking 
poison  produced  death ;  but  we  do  know,  that  the  two  events 
are  always  united,  that  one  is  the  invariable  consequent  of  the 
other,  and  this  is  enough  to  direct  us  in  action.  Experience 
loses  none  of  its  value  as  a  trustworthy  guide  of  life,  though  it 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  S3 

is  deprived  of  some  of  its  factitious  importance  as  a  source  of 
knowledge.  The  discovery  of  invariable  sequences,  of  regularity 
in  the  succession  of  events,  is  the  true  aim  of  physical  science. 
To  distinguish  accidental,  and  therefore  infrequent,  conjunctions 
from  such  as  are  constant,  to  separate  the  casual  proximity  in 
lime  of  two  events,  from  their  permanent  relation  to  each  other 
as  antecedent  and  consequent,  is  the  only  object  of  the  inquirer. 
An  eclipse  of  the  sun  may  be  followed  by  a  pestilence ;  a 
troubled  dream  may  xerj  soon  be  succeeded  by  some  great 
domestic  misfortune.  But  a  brief  experience  of  eclipses  and  of 
dreams  will  satisfy  us,  that  there  is  no  permanent  relation  be- 
tween these  two  events,  nothing  but  a  fortuitous  conjunction  of 
them.  On  the  other  hand,  the  application  of  heat  is  always  fol- 
lowed by  the  boiling  of  the  water,  and  the  sensation  of  coldness 
never  fails  to  result,  if  the  warm  hand  be  placed  upon  ice. 
Permanent  sequences  are  thus  distinguished  from  casual  ones ; 
but  of  the  true  relations  of  the  two  events  to  each  other,  of  the 
reason  or  cause  of  their  proximity,  we  are  just  as  ignorant  in 
the  latter  case  as  in  the  former.  Previously  to  all  experience, 
we  have  no  more  reason  for  supposing  that  powdered  sugar 
will  dissolve  in  water,  and  powdered  marble  will  not,  than  for 
believing  that  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  will  be  followed  by  an  earth- 
quake. "  Causis  autem  efjicientibus  quamque  rem  cognitis,  posse 
denique  sciri,  quid  futurum  esset." 

To  distinguish  invariable  sequences  from  necessary  connec- 
tions, Dugald  Stewart  and  others  have  proposed  to  call  the 
former  ^physical  causes,'  and  the  latter  '  efficient  causes.'  This 
nomenclature  is  good  enough  in  one  respect,  as  the  former  are 
the  only  objects  of  physical  inquiry ;  but  it  is  faulty,  in  so  far 
as  it  connects  the  idea  of  cause  in  any  manner  whatever  with 
such  relations.  '  Physical  causes,'  as  they  are  termed,  are  only 
the  constant  forerunners  and  signs  of  certain  natural  events ; 
the  word  cause  is  almost  universally  understood  to  mean  nothing 
but  efficient  cause. 

How  invariable  sequences  are  distinguished  from  accidental 
ones.  —  To  show  both  the  importance  and  the  difficulty  of  dis- 
tinguishing invariable  sequences  from  accidental  and  unessential 


84  TIIK    IDEA    OF    CAUSE. 

conjunctions,  I  borrow  an  illustration  from  Mr.  Stewart.  "  Let 
us  suppose  that  a  savage,  who,  in  a  particular  instance,  had 
found  himself  relieved  of  some  bodily  indisposition  by  a  draught 
of  cold  water,  is  a  second  time  afflicted  with  a  similar  disorder, 
and  is  desirous  to  repeat  the  same  remedy.  With  the  limited 
^egree  of  experience  which  we  have  supposed"  him  to  possess,  it 
wdtild  be  inif  ossible  for  the  acutest  philosopher  in  his  situation 
to  determine,  whether  the  cure  was  owing  to  the  water  which 
was  drunk,  to  the  cup  in  which  it  was  contained,  to  the  fountain 
from  which  it  was  taken,  to  the  particular  day  of  the  month,  or 
to  the  particular  age  of  the  moon.  In  order,  therefore,  to  in- 
sure the  success  of  the  remedy,  he  will  very  naturally,  and  very 
wisely,  copy,  as  far  as  he  can  recollect,  every  circumstance 
which  accompanied  the  first  application  of  it.  He  will  make 
use  of  the  same  cup,  draw  the  water  from  the  same  fountain,  ; 
hold  his  body  in  the  same  posture,  and  turn  his  face  in  the  same 
direction  ;  and  thus  all  the  accidental  circumstances  in  which 
the  first  experiment  was  made,  will  come  to  be  associated 
equally  in  his  mind  with  the  eflfect  produced." 

The  man  of  science,  Mr.  Stewart  might  have  added,  will  re- 
peat the  experiment  a  number  of  times,  leaving  out  at  each  trial 
one  of  the  attendant  circumstances,  till  he  falls  upon  one,  after 
the  omission  of  which  the  desired  result  no  longer  follows.  He 
is  then  popularly  said  to  have  found  out  the  cause  of  the  cure ; 
but  his  reason  for  believing  in  the  efficacy  of  this  one  antecedent, 
in  its  necessary  connection  with  the  result,  is  precisely  the  same 
that  the  savage  had  for  believing  in  the  necessity  of  all  the  at- 
tendant circumstances  i  —  namely,  that  the  application  was  made, 
and  the  cure  followed.  And  were  he  to  repeat  the  experiment 
a  thousand  times,  he  could  learn  no  more  than  this,  —  the  inva- 
riable attendance  of  one  event  upon  the  other.  Why  the  cure 
takes  place,  he  knows  not.  Lest  I  should  be  accused  of  taking 
an  extreme  case  from  so  imperfect  a  science  as  medicine,  let  me 
say,  that  the  power  of  water  to  slake  one's  thirst  is  ascertained 
in  precisely  the  same  manner.  After  the  draught,  we  feel  no 
longer  thirsty  ;  and  this  succession  of  the  one  event  to  the  other 
is  all  that  we  know  about  it. 


THE   IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  85 

The  theory  which  denies  that  we  have  any  idea  of  an  efficient 
cause,  —  I  pass  now  to  a  consideration  of  an  error  in  the  theory 
of  causation  of  precisely  the  opposite  character  to  that  which 
has  thus  far  occupied  our  attention.  So  evident  does  it  appear 
to  some  philosophers,  that  we  never  discern  any  efficient  causes 
in  nature,  that  they  deny  our  having  any  knowledge  of  them,  or 
any  conception  of  their  existence.  The  word  cause,  they  say, 
whether  it  be  called  efficient  or  not,  means  nothing  but  invariable 
antecedence.  The  idea  of  efficiency,  of  power,  of  energy,  is  a 
mere  figment  of  the  brain ;  it  denotes  nothing  but  constancy  of 
succession.  Dr.  Brown's  words  are,  — "  We  give  the  name 
^jcause^  to  that  which  has  always  been  followed  by  a  certain 
event,  is  followed  by  a  certain  event,  and,  according  to  our  be- 
lief, will  continue  to  he  followed  by  that  event,  as  its  immediate 
consequent ;  and  causation,  power,  or  any  other  synonymous 
words  which  we  may  use,  express  nothing  more  than  this  per- 
manent relation  of  that  which  has  preceded  to  that  which  has 
followed."  So  well  satisfied  was  he  of  the  truth  of  this  doctrine, 
that  he  said  his  elaborate  argument  in  favor  of  it  appeared  to 
him  very  much  like  an  attempt  to  prove  the  correctness  of  the 
multiplication-table.  Hume  and  Brown  are  followed  in  this  re- 
spect by  Mr.  Mill,  who  denies  that  we  have  any  notion  whatever 
of  power,  OY  force,  apart  from  the  substances  or  events  in  which 
they  are  supposed  to  inhere ;  he  says,  "  there  is  nothing  in 
causation  but  invariable,  certain,  and  unconditional  sequence;'* 
and  that  "  reason  repudiates,"  though  the  imagination  may  re- 
tain, the  idea  "  of  some  more  intimate  connection,  of  some  pe- 
culiar tie,  or  mysterious  constraint  exercised  by  the  antecedent 
over  the  consequent."  He  even  denies  the  universality  and 
necessity  of  the  law  of  causation,  —  or,  as  he  understands  it, 
the  law  of  invariable  antecedence,  —  saying,  that  although,  in 
this  world  of  ours,  every  event  is  preceded  by  some  other  event, 
the  two  forming  a  constant  sequence,  yet,  for  aught  we  know, 
"  in  some  one,  for  instance,  of  the  many  firmaments  into  which 
sidereal  astronomy  now  divides  the  universe,  events  may  suc- 
ceed one  another  at  random,  without  any  fixed  law." 

Confutation  of  this  theory.  —  Against  skepticism  so  extrava- 

8 


S6  THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE. 

gant  as  this,  it  is  only  necessary  to  adduce  tli^e  fact  of  which  I 
reminded  you  at  the  beginning  of  this  chapter,  —  that  the 
popular  significance  of  the  word  cause  is  the  scientific  and 
metaphysical  meaning  of  it,  the  idea  being  that  of  efficient  cause, 
and  not  merely  of  a  constant  forerunner  or  sign  of  any  event. 
I  appeal  to  the  consciousness  of  every  one  who  hears  me,  if,  by 
the  relation  of  cause  and  effect,  he  does  not  understand  a  fixed 
and  essential  relation,  —  one  perfectly  distinct  from  that  of  mere 
succession,. — the  former  event  being  necessarily  followed  by  the 
latter,  and  the  existence  of  the  latter  being  inconceivable  except 
as  both  preceded  and  produced  by  its  antecedent.  When  you 
say,  that  the  falling  of  a  spark  caused  the  explosion,  yo«  mean 
something  very  different  from  the  mere  proximity  of  two  suc- 
cessive strokes  upon  a  belL  The  idea  of  power,  or  force,  is  per- 
fectly clear  and  distinct  in  your  mind ;  I  ask  not  now  how  it 
came  there,  —  whether  it  be  legitimately  acquired,  or  a  mere 
figcDient  of  the  imagination ;  but  IT  is-  there,  —  as  distinguish- 
able from  all  your  other  notions  as  the  idea  of  unity,  or  of  self, 
"  What  convinces  me,"  says  Dr.  Reid,  "^  that  I  have  an  idea  of 
power  is,  that  I  am  conscious  that  I  know  what  I  mean  by  thai 
word,  and,  while  I  have  this  consciousness,  I  disdain  equally  to 
hear  arguments  for  ar  against  my  having  such  an  idea."  As 
the  idea  is  not  complex,  it  cannot  be  analyzed,  and  is  therefore 
indefinable  ;  but  in  this  respect,  it  is  only  on  the  same  footing 
Avith  all  other  simple  conceptions* 

Paradoxical  resuU  of  the  inquiry.  —  Observe,  now,  to  what 
point  the  discussion  has  brought  us  ;  —  to  the  acknowledgment 
that  the  idea  of  power,  or  efficient  cause,  is  one  of  the  simplest 
and  most  familiar  conceptions  of  the  human  mind  ;  yet  that  we 
can  find  no  reality  corresponding  to  it  in  the  outward  universe. 
Every  change,  every  phenomenon,  which  begins  to  exist,  must 
have  an  efficient  cause ;  we  can  no  more  question  this  proposi- 
tion than  we  can  deny  the  axioms  of  the  geometer.  But  the 
closest  observation,  the  most  refined  analysis,  nowhere  discovers 
such  a  cause  in  the  external  world ;  it  detects  nothing,  it  never 
can  detect  any  thing,  but  invariable  antecedence,  —  a  relation 
which  differs  from  that  of  cause  as  widely  as  the  idea  of  person. 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  87 

ar  self,  differs  from  that  of  material  substance.  Whence  came 
the  idea,  then  ?  Why  do  we  suppose  the  existence  of  such  a 
cause,  or  attribute  to  it  every  outward  phenomenon,  when  it  is 
nowhere  discoverable  ?  This  is  the  problem  which  we  must 
now  undertake  to  solve. 

Origin  of  the  idea  of  cause.  —  Two  answers  are  possible  to 
this  inquiry.  One  is,  that  the  idea  of  cause  is  a  conception  of 
pure  reason  ;  an  original  and  spontaneous  intuition  of  the  soul ; 
not  furnished  by  experience,  though  first  developed  on  occasion 
of  its  exercise  ;  a  part  of  the  primitive  constitution  of  the  human 
mind ;  in  short,  an  innate  idea.  Those  to  whom  this  answer  is 
satisfactory,  of  course,  need  go  no  further.  The  existence  of 
such  primitive  ideas  is  a  mere  dogmatic  assertion,  admitted  to 
be  incapable  of  proof,  and  affirmed  to  be  in  no  need  of  it,  but  to 
occupy  a  position  above  all  argument.  No  inquiry  into  their 
origin,  or  genesis,  is  possible,  for  they  had  no  origin,  except 
with  the  birth  of  the  mind  itself;  no  process  of  legitimating 
them,  or  establishing  their  objective  validity,  is  required,  as  they 
constitute  the  grounds  of  reasoning  about  other  things,  and  so 
cannot  themselves  be  reasoned  about.  If  you  deny  the  exist- 
ence of  them,  you  are  a  skeptic,  or  a  materialist,  and  there  is 
an  end  of  the  matter.  Now,  for  the  purposes  of  this  inquiry,  I 
do  not  feel  concerned  either  to  affirm  or  deny  them.  Those 
who  believe  in  them,  as  I  have  said,  need  go  no  further ;  the 
conclusion  to  which  they  have  come  is  perfectly  satisfactory,, 
though  they  have  jumped  to  it ;  and  I  freely  concede  this  point, 
that  the  idea  of  cause  has  a  better  claim  to  be  considered  origi- 
nal and  spontaneous  than  any  other.  If  there  are  any  innate 
ideas,  this  surely  is  one.  Those  who  are  not  satisfied  with  this 
compendious  and  dogmatic  method  of  solving  the  problem,  may 
accompany  me  in  a  consideration  of  the  second  possible  answer 
to  the  question  proposed  ;  —  namely,  that  the  idea  of  cause  has , 
its  origin  in  internal  experience,  in  the  consciousness  of  volition 
and  action. 

The  human  will  is  an  efficient  cause.  —  Our  theorem  is,  that 
we  have  the  direct  evidence  of  consciousness,  arising  from  every 
volition  or  voluntary  act,  that  the  human  will  is  a  cause,  —  an 


88  THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSi:. 

efficient  cause,  not  a  mere  antecedent,  —  a  limited  cause,  indeed, 
but  supreme  within  its  proper  domain,  —  not  always  sw/'-ficient 
for  the  end  proposed,  but  always  e/'-ficient,  or  expending  force 
or  power,  which  is  real,  though  often  inadequate.  Thus,  if  I 
will  to  move  a  limb  which  has  been  paralyzed,  though  the  limb 
does  not  move,  I  am  conscious  of  making  an  effort  to  move  it, 
and  this  consciousness  of  effort  is  a  consciousness  of  force  ex- 
erted, oi  power  in  action^  which  is  necessarily  causal  or  causative, 
though  in  this  instance  too  weak,  or  too  little,  for  the  end  pro- 
posed. By  this  "  effort,"  I  do  not  mean  the  mere  straining  of 
the  muscles,  or  muscular  effort.  I  mean  the  strong  purpose, 
the  vigorous  exertion  of  will,  a  purely  mental  effort,  —  which 
will  be  best  illustrated,  perhaps,  by  an  action  confined  entirely 
to  mind. 

Consider,  then,  the  strong  effort  of  the  will  to  fix  the  atten- 
tion upon  a  particular  subject  of  thought,  when  a  variety  of  dis- 
tracting circumstances  calls  off  the  mind  to  other  topics,  —  when 
grief,  terror,  anxiety,  or  anger  darkens  and  disturbs  the  soul. 
The  success  of  the  attempt  in  such  a  case,  the  issue  of  the 
struggle,  may  be  doubtful ;  but  we  are  conscious  that  it  is  a 
struggle,  that  power  is  put  forth  towards  the  end  in  view,  and 
this  power  is  a  true  cause.  A  man  of  great  energy,  of  indom- 
itable resolution,  is  said  truly  to  possess  great  ybrce  of  character, 
however  puny  may  be  his  bodily  constitution,  however  meagre 
and  insufficient  may  be  the  outward  means  at  his  disposal  for 
the  accomplishment  of  his  object.  In  a  successful  contest  with 
the  passions,  in  resistance  to  temptation,  there  is  a  consciousness 
of  power  exerted,  which  no  mere  material  exertion,  no  stiffen- 
ing of  the  sinews  and  summoning  up  the  blood,  can  ever  equal. 
Our  real  activity  resides  solely  in  the  ivill.  An  effort  to  lift  the 
arm  is,  so  to  speak,  an  outward  effort,  like  the  attempt  to  rend  an 
oak  ;  it  may  or  may  not  succeed  ;  that  depends  on  the  material 
constitution  of  the  nerves  and  muscles.  But  the  act  was  really 
completed  in  the  volition,  or  in  putting  forth  conscious  energy 
towards  the  end  proposed;  and  this  always  succeeds.  The 
limbs  may  be  palsied,  the  muscles  may  refuse  to  bend,  and  this 
tenement  of  clay  in  which  we  live  may  no  longer  obey  our 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  89 

wishes,  or  minister  to  our  necessities.  But  the  kingly  will  still 
governs  and  acts  within,  and  is  still  responsible  for  its  acts  at 
that  dread  tribunal  where  not  the  outward  movements,  but  the 
purposes  of  the  heart,  come  into  judgment. 

Power  may  he  exerted,  though  no  onward  effect  follows,  —  I 
contend  that,  in  the  action  of  will,  we  have  all  the  marks  or 
tests,  by  which  efficient  causation  is  distinguished  from  mere 
antecedence.  In  the  case  of  material  phenomena,  as  we  have 
seen,  the  result  can  be  ascertained  only  by  experience  ;  we  learn 
only  by  trial  that  one  substance  is  soluble,  and  another  not,  — 
that  iron  expands,  and  clay  contracts,  in  the  fire.  But  in  the 
case  of  mental  exertion,  the  result  to  be  accomplished  is  jpre- 
considered,  or  meditated,  and  is  therefore  known  a  priori,  or 
before  experience  ;  *  the  volition  succeeds,  which  is  a  true  effort, 


*  To  this  statement,  Mr.  J,  S.  Mill  objects,  **  This  is  merely  saying, 
that  when  we  will  a  thing,  we  have  an  idea  of  it.  But  to  have  an  idea  of 
what  we  wish  to  happen,  does  not  imply  a  prophetic  knowledge  that  it 
will  happen." 

Certainly  it  does  not ;  but  a  viental  sequence  between  a  volition  and  a 
bodily  motion,  is  hereby  distinguished  from  a  sequence  between  two  extei-- 
nal  events,  because,  in  the  latter  case,  the  antecedent  gives  us  no  idea  at 
all  what  the  consequent  will  be,  and  no  assurance  that  there  will  be  any 
consequent;  while,  in  the  former  case,  the  antecedent  does  inform  us, 
through  consciousness,  and  prior  to  experience,  what  the  consequent  will 
be,  if  any,  and  also  that  the  volition  will  tend  to  produce  this  particular 
consequent,  even  if  the  effort,  or  the  force  of  the  volition,  should  not  suf- 
fice to  produce  the  whole  of  the  intended  result; — just  as  I  may  be  con- 
scious that  I  push  against  a  pane  of  glass,  though  I  do  not  push  hard 
enough  to  break  it.  It  is  something  to  establish  this  distinction,  as  we 
thereby  negative  Mr.  Mill's  previous  assertion,  that  "  our  will  causes  our 
bodily  actions  in  the  same  sense,  and  in  no  other,  in  which  cold  causes  ice." 

Again,  —  though  "  the  idea  of  what  we  wish  to  happen  "  does  not  imply 
a  prophetic  knowledge  of  what  will  happen,  yet  the  idea  of  what  we  vnU 
(that  is,  the  consciousness  of  a  volition,)  does  imply,  if  not  a  prophetic 
knowledge  of  what  will  happen,  yet  an  immediate  knowledge  of  something 
that  does  happen.  It  is  a  consciousness  of  an  action  —  of  something  done 
—  of  power  exerted,  whether  the  future  result  of  that  action  be  precisely 
what  we  intended  or  not.  An  act  of  the  will  is  at  the  same  moment  a  vo- 
lition and  an  action ;  it  is  but  one  state  of  mind  considered  under  two  dif- 
ferent relations.     It  is  a  volition,  in  so  far  as  it  is  directed  to  one  purposa 

8* 


90  THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE. 

or  a  power  in  action ;  and  this,  if  the  power  be  sufficient,  is 
necessarily  followed  by  the  effect.  It  was  from  overlooking  this 
distinction,  that  Hume,  Kant,  and  Brown,  and  such  metaphysi- 
cians of  the  present  day  as  Bailey  and  Mill,  have  been  led  to 
deny  all  knowledge  of  causation  even  in  the  action  of  mind. 
They  confounded  sufficiency  with  efficiency,  and  supposed,  be- 
cause the  power  or  volition  did  not  always  accomplish  the 
object,  that  it  did  not  tend  towards  it,  or  exert  any  effect  upon 
it.  But  I  quote  Mr.  Mill's  language  against  himself;  for  when 
he  is  looking  only  to  physical  causes  and  material  results,  he 
lays  down  this  distinction  with  admirable  clearness. 

Alluding  to  the  direction  and  velocity  with  which  a  body 
moves  when  acted  upon  by  a  certain  force,  he  says,  "  The  body 
does  not  only  move  in  that  manner,  unless  counteracted ;  it 
tends  to  move  in  that  manner,  even  when  counteracted ;  it  still 
exerts  in  the  original  direction  the  same  energy  of  movement, 
as  if  its  first  impulse  had  been  undisturbed,  and  produces,  by 
that  energy,  an  exactly  equivalent  quantity  of  effect.  This  is 
true,  even  when  the  force  leaves  the  body,  as  it  found  it,  in  a 
state  of  absolute  rest ;  as  when  we  attempt  to  raise  a  body  of 
three  tons'  weight,  with  a  force  equal  to  one  ton.  For  if,  while 
we  are  applying  this  force,  the  wind,  or  water,  or  any  other 
agent,  supplies  an  additional  force  just  exceeding  two  tons,  the 
body  will  be  raised ;  thus  proving,  that  the  force  we  applied  ex- 
erted its  full  effect,  by  neutralizing  an  equivalent  portion  of  the 

or  another ;  it  is  an  action,  in  so  far  as  it  is  something  done,  (and  something, 
therefore,  for  which  our  conscience  holds  us  responsible,)  whether  the  ulterior 
purpose  in  view  is  answered  or  not.  Mr.  Mill's  ingenious  periphi-asis  for 
a  volition  —  "  an  idea  of  what  we  wish  to  happen  "  —  cannot  be  accepted. 
Merely  "  to  have  an  idea  "  of  a  thing,  is  not  to  do  that  thing.  I  may  "  have 
an  idea "  of  committing  murder ;  but  I  do  not  thereby  commit  murder. 
The  mind  is  entirely  passive,  when  it  is  occupied  with  mere  contemplation, 
or  is  merely  entertaining  ideas.  But  on  the  other  hand,  if  I  will  to  com- 
mit murder,  and,  as  a  necessary  means  to  tliis  end,  tvill  to  pull  the  trigger 
of  a  pistol,  then,  m  foi-o  consci entice,  I  am  guilty  of  that  murder,  because  1 
have  done  something,  though,  from  the  rustiuess  of  the  lock,  the  trigger 
should  not  move,  and  the  life  of  the  intended  victim  should  thereby  he 
saved. 


THE    IDEA    OF   CAUSE-  91 

weight,  which  it  was  insufficient  altogether  to  overcome.  And 
if,  while  we  are  exerting  this  force  of  one  ton  upon  the  object 
in  a  direction  contrary  to  that  of  gravity,  it  be  put  into  a  scale 
and  weighed,  it  will  be  found  to  have  lost  a  ton  of  its  weight,  or, 
in  other  words,  to  press  downwards  with  a  force  only  equal  to 
tlie  difference  of  the  two  forces- 

"  These  facts  are  correctly  indicated  by  the  expression  ten- 
dency. All  laws  of  causation,  in  consequence  of  their  liability 
to  be  counteracted,  require  to  be  stated  in  words  affirmative  of 
tendencies  only,  and  not  of  actual  results.  In  those  sciences  of 
causation  which  have  an  accurate  nomenclature,  there  are  spe- 
cial words,  which  signify  a  tendency  to  the  particular  effect  with 
which  the  science  is  conversant ;  thus,  pressure,  in  Mechanics, 
is  synonymous  with  tendency  to  motion,  and  forces  are  not 
reasoned  upon  as  causing  actual  motion,  but  as  exerting  pres- 
sm-e." 

How  language  so  precise  as  this  is  to  be  reconciled  with  the 
writer's  denial  of  the  fact,  that  we  have  even  any  idea  of  efficient 
cause,  is  a  question  for  Mr.  Mill  to  answer.  I  have  no  concern 
with  it,  e:xcept  to  remark,  that  the  energy,  or  power  exerted, 
which  is  not  followed  by  any  actual  effect,  but  only  tends  to 
produce  one,  cannot  with  any  propriety  be  considered  as  a  mere 
antecedent  event,  for  it  has  no  consequent.  It  is  no  fact  of  ob- 
servation, inasmuch  as  no  result  is  perceived ;  and  therefore  it 
does  not  conflict  with  our  doctrine,  that  we  nowhere  discern 
efficient  causes  in  the  material  world.  But  tendency  cannot 
even  be  conceived  of,  much  less  so  clearly  explained  as  it  is  by 
Mr.  Mill,  except  as  the  effect  of  power  in  action^  and  there- 
fore as  implying  a  real  cause. 

However  this  may  be,  the  illustration  amply  vindicates  our 
knowledge  of  efficient  causation  in  the  phenomena  of  mind, 
against  which  no  objection  can  be  brought,  except  the  alleged 
necessity  of  waiting  till  experience  informs  us  whether  the  voli- 
tion is  efiective  or  not,  so  that  we  cannot  say  a  priori,  as  we 
should  do  of  a  true  cause,  that  it  will  be,  it  must  be,  effective. 
We  can  say  this  beforehand  of  mental  activity,  or  will ;  the 
volition  IS  always  effective,  if  not  to  the  fuU  extent  of  actually 


9^  THE   IDEA    OF    CAUSE. 

producing  the  wbole  result  in  view,  at  least  as  tending  to  pro- 
duce it,  so  that  it  is  an  efficient  cause. 

Hoic  the  idea  of  cause  is  expanded  into  the  law  of  causation. 

—  The  difference  between  voluntary  and  involuntary  states  of 
mind,  —  between  attentiooi  and  sensation,  for  example,  —  is  soon 
recognized.  We  know  that  power  is  exerted  in  the  former  case, 
that  every  act  is  preceded  by  a  volition,  and  that  this  volition  is 
the  sole  and  efficient  cause  of  the  act.  Nay,  within  the  proper 
domain  of  the  will,  it  is  even  inconceivable  to  us  that  any  event 
or  change  should  take  place  without  the  agency  of  the  will ;  and 
hence,  as  I  am  inclined  to  believe,  by  a  natural  association  of 
ideas,  we  are  led  to  the  doctrine  of  univertal  causation,  —  to  the 
belief  that  no  event  whatever,  whether  in  the  mind  or  in  the 
outer  universe,  can  take  place  without  an  efficient  cause.  In 
most  cases,  we  are  ignorant  what  that  cause  is,  for  undoubtedly 
the  majority  even  of  our  mental  states  is  involuntary  ;  we  must 
believe  and  perceive,  when  evidence  or  objects  are  presented 
to  us.  These  cases  we  are  not  completely  acquainted  with ; 
strictly  speaking,  the  efficient  cause  of  them  comes  not  within 
the  range  of  our  knowledge.  But  voluntary  acts  we  do  know 
thoroughly ;  the  efficient  cause  of  them  —  namely,  otir  own  will 

—  does  he  entirely  within  the  sphere  of  our  consciousness,  and 
is  known  to  be  in  immediate  contact,  as  it  were,  with  the  effect. 
Hence,  association  leads  us  to  believe  that  every  other  event 
must  have  a  cause,  and  that,  if  we  had  the  thorough  knowledge 
of  it  v;hich  we  have  of  a  voluntary  act,  it  would  be  seen  to  pro- 
ceed from  a  cause  j  and  this  cause  is  naturally  sought  for  in  the 
immediately  antecedent  event.  Every  action  of  our  lives,  every 
volition,  appears  in  this  character ;  so  that  it  is  by  no  narrow 
and  insufficient  induction,  but  by  one  that  is  coextensive  with 
our  whole  conscious  existence,  the  acts  which  form  its  basis 
recurring  at  every  instant,  that  we  ai*e  led  to  the  general  law, 
that  no  phenomenon  occurs  without  a  cause. 

The  universal  and  necessary  character  of  the  law  of  causation, 
that  "  every  event  must  have  a  cause,"  may  be  accounted  for  in 
another  way.  It  may  be  traced  to  our  intuitive  appreciation  of 
the  fundamental  and  essential  distinction  between  matter  and 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  93 

mind,  —  to  tlie  first  act  of  self-consciousness  by  which  the  me  is 
distinguished  from  the  not-me.*  In  that  primitive  cognition,  we 
are  directly  conscious  of  the  me  as  essentially  active,  and  the 
not-me  as  essentially  inert  or  passive.  This  is  the  necessary 
antithesis  which  the  thinking  being  establishes  between  himself 
and  the  outward  world,  just  as  soon  as  he  arrives  at  a  conscious- 
ness of  either.  He  necessarily  attributes  power  and  activity  to 
himself,  for  he  cannot  imagine,  he  cannot  even  think,  himself 
deprived  of  power,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  of  will;  for  in  our 
analysis,  the  two  things  are  identical.  Imagine  yourself,  if  you 
can,  deprived  even  of  the  power  to  will ;  you  cannot  do  it. 
Outward  restraint  is  nothing ;  bars  and  fetters  cannot  bind  the 
soul.  Paralysis  is  nothing ;  we  can  yet  will  to  move  the  limb, 
though  it  remains  fixed.  The  effort  may  be  apparently  power- 
less as  to  its  effect  upon  the  limb  ;  but  it  is  still  an  effort,  and 
can  always  be  made.  You  cannot  cease  to  be  conscious  of  a 
power  to  will  without  ceasing  to  be  conscious  of  yourself. 


=*  I  here  adopt  an  important  distinction  from  Mr,  De  Morgan,  who  first 
clearly  stated  it  in  his  "  Formal  Logic." 

"  When  a  name  is  clearly  understood,"  he  observes,  "  the  name  applies 
to  every  thing,  in  one  way  or  the  other,  [i.  e.  positively  or  negatively.]  The 
word  man  has  an  application  both  to  Alexander  and  Bucephalus  ;  the  first 
was  a  man,  the  second  was  not.  In  the  formation  of  language,  a  great 
many  names  are,  as  to  their  original  signification,  of  a  purely  negative 
character ;  thus,  parallels  are  only  lines  which  do  not  meet ;  aliens  are  men 
who  are  not  Britons,  (that  is,  in  our  country).  If  language  were  as  copious 
and  as  perfect  as  we  could  imagine  it  to  be,  for  every  name  which  has  a 
positive  signification,  we  should  have  another  which  merely  implies  all 
other  things ;  thus,  as  we  have  a  name  for  a  tree,  we  should  have  another  to 
signify  every  thing  that  is  not  a  tree.  As  it  is,  we  have  sometimes  a  name 
for  the  positive,  and  none  for  the  negative,  as  in  tree ;  sometimes  for  the 
negative,  and  none  for  the  positive,  as  in  parallels;  sometimes  for  both,  as 
in  a  frequent  use  of  person  and  thing. '^ 

"  Let  us  take  a  pair  of  contrary  names,  as  man  and  not-vian.  It  is  plain 
that,  between  them,  they  represent  every  thing  imaginable  or  real,  in  the  Mm- 
verse." 

Obviously,  then,  every  judgment  founded  upon  the  antithesis  between 
the  me  and  the  not-me  must  be  a  univei'sal  judgment ;  for  these  two  terms, 
between  them,  comprise  the  universe. 


94  THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE. 

Now,  the  outward  world  first  manifests  itself  to  us  as  an  ob* 
stacle,  a  limitation,  a  resistance  to  be  overcome.  Our  first 
knowledge  of  its  existence  is  a  perception  of  its  inertness,  or 
want  of  power,  —  its  essential  passivity.  We  cannot  cease  to 
recognize  this  quality  in  it,  without  losing  consciousness  also  of 
that  which  renders  it  different  from  ourselves.  Every  thing 
which  is  foreign  to  the  perceiving  mind  is  perceived  to  be  in 
antagonism  with  it ;  as  the  one  is  known  only  under  the  condi- 
tions of  life  and  activity,  the  other  is  recognized  only  as  dead 
and  motionless.  Because  matter  is  perceived,  through  its  an- 
tagonism with  mind,  to  be  essentially  inert,  we  say  that  every 
change  in  its  state  must  have  a  cause,  or  that  mind,  the  only 
true  energy,  or  source  of  power,  with  which  we  are  acquainted, 
must  be  acting  upon  it,  either  from  within  or  without.  As  all 
actual  and  all  imaginable  existence  must  be  either  identified 
with  the  me,  that  is,  with  mind,  or  considered  as  foreign  to  it, 
that  is,  as  matter,  it  must  also  be  conceived  either  as  essentially 
active,  or  essentially  inert..  Here,  then,  we  find  a  basis  for  the 
universal  law  of  causation. 

All  the  phraseology  of  causation  is  borrowed  from  mind.  — 
This  doctrine  derives  confirmation  from  the  fact,  that  all  the 
phraseology  employed  in  speaking  of  the  successive  generaliza- 
tions of  the  science  of  events  is  borrowed  from  the  action  of 
mind.  The  word  action  itself  has  no  real  significance,  except 
when  applied  to  the  doings  of  an  intelligent  agent ;  we  cannot 
speak  of  the  doings  of  matter,  as  we  could  if  the  word  action 
were  applicable  to  it  in  any  other  than  a  figurative  sense.  Let 
any  one  conceive,  if  he  can,  of  any  power,  energy,  or  force  in- 
herent in  a  lump  of  matter,  —  a  stone,  for  instance,  —  except 
this  merely  negative  one,  that  it  always  and  necessarily  remains 
in  its  present  state,  whether  this  be  of  rest  or  motion.  Again, 
in  speaking  of  the  similarity  of  facts  and  the  regularity  of  se- 
quences, we  refer  them  to  a  law  of  nature,  just  as  if  they  were 
sentient  beings  acting  under  the  will  of  a  sovereign.  Chemical 
affinities,  also,  are  spoken  of,  as  if  material  elements  were  united 
by  family  ties,  and  manifested  choice,  or  affection  and  aversion. 
We  attribute  force,  or  power,  to  the  particles  of  matter,  and 


THE    IDEA    OP    CAUSE,  95 

Ej)eak  of  their  natural  txgencies.  Just  so,  we  talk  of  tone  in 
coloring,  and  of  a  heavy  or  light  sound ;  though,  of  course,  in 
^e  proper  significance  of  these  words,  tone  belongs  only  to 
sound,  and  heaviness  to  gravitating  bodies.  These  modes  of 
speech  are  proper  enough,  if  their  figurative  character  be  kept 
in  view ;  but  we  ought  always  to  remember,  that  agency  is  the 
employment  of  one  intelligent  being  to  act  for  another ;  force 
and  power  ai*e  applicable  only  to  toiE ;  they  are  characteristic 
of  voUtwru  Of  course,  it  is  a  violent  trope  to  apply  either  of 
them  to  senseless  matter. 

The  doctrine  of  immediate  divine  agency.  —  An  obvious  cor- 
ollary from  these  remarks  is,  that  all  causation  is  an  exertion 
of  mind,  and  is  apj>lied  only  by  metaphor  to  the  material  uni- 
verse. It  necessarily  implies  power,  will,  and  action.  It  is  a 
universally  admitted  truth,  that  an  efficient  cause  is  nowhere 
discoverable  in  the  world  without  us  ;  we  know  what  it  is  only 
from  consciousness,  and  all  our  language  respecting  it  is  bor- 
rowed from  mental  phenomena.  This  doctrine  places  the  ma- 
terial universe  before  us  in  a  new  light  The  whole  frame- 
work of  v/hat  are  called  "  secondary  causes "  fells  to  pieces. 
The  laws  of  nature  are  only  a  figure  of  speech ;  the  powers  and 
active  inherent  properties  of  material  atoms  are  mere  fictions. 
Mind  alone  is  active  ;  matter  is  wholly  passive  and  inert.  Mind 
alone  moves  ;  matter  is  moved.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  what 
we  usually  call  the  "  course  of  nature  ; "  it  is  nothing  but  the 
will  of  God  producing  certain  effects  in  a  constant  and  uniform 
manner;  which  mode  of  action,  however,  being  arbitrary,  or 
dependent  upon  will,  is  as  easy  to  be  altered  as  to  be  preserved. 
All  events,  all  changes,  in  the  external  world,  from  the  least 
even  unto  the  greatest,  are  attributable  directly  to  his  will  and 
power,  which,  being  infinite,  are  always  and  necessarily  adequate 
to  the  end  proposed.  The  laws  of  motion,  gravitation,  affinity, 
and  the  like,  are  only  expressions  of  the  regularity  and  continu- 
ity of  one  infinite  cause.  The  order  of  nature  is  the  effect  of 
Divine  wisdom  ;  its  stability  is  the  result  of  Divine  beneficence.* 

*  Sir  William  Hamilton  enumerates  and  criticizes  eight  different  theories 
that  have  been  framed  by  philosophers  to  account  for  the  origin  of  our 


M 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE. 


"judgment  of  causation,"  or  irresistible  belief  tluit  every  event  must  hscre 
a  cause.  Four  of  these  are  based  on  experience,  and  affirm  that  the  idea 
or  the  judgment  is  derived  fi-om  observation  y  the  otlier  four  regard  this 
judgment  as  an  a  priori  cognition,  —  that  is,  a  law  of  thought,  or  a  condi- 
tion of  experience. 

1.  The  opinion  that  we  are  able  to  detect  efl&cient  causes  even  in  the 
outward  tcorld,  the  true  nexus,  or  bond  of  unio-n  between  the  phenomenon 
and  its  cause,  being  exposed  to  observation,  though  it  continues  to  be  the 
belief  of  the  vulgar,  is  now  generally  abandoned  by  the  learned.  Dr. 
Whewell  is  the  only  writer  of  eminence,  since  the  days  of  Hume,  who  has 
ventured  to  maintain  this  doctrine.  We  have  already  proved  tliat  no  true 
cause  has  been,  ©r  ever  can  be,  discovered  in  the  material  universe. 

2.  The  theory  maintained  in  this  chapter,  that  the  idea  of  cause  has  its 
origin  in  internal  experience,  in  the  consciousness  of  volition  and  action. 

3.  We  obtain  our  knowledge  of  causation  by  a  process  of  induction,  just 
as  we  trace  out  other  recondite  laws  of  nature.  After  we  have  repeatedly 
observed  a  certain  event  to  be  immediately  followed  by  another,  and  have 
never  seen  one  without  the  other,  we  infer  that  there  is  a  necessary  union 
between  them.  When  observation  has  brought  to  view  a  multitude  of  such 
instances,  we  generalize  the  fact  into  a  law  of  nature.  The  objections  to 
this  theory  are,  first,  that  immediate  succession  is  not  causation,  and  sec- 
ondly, we  cannot  affirm  that  all  must  he,  because  scnne  are.  This  doctrine 
would  allow  us  to  say,  that  an  event  as  yet  unobserved  by  us  may  take 
place  without  a  cause ;  which  is  contrary  to  the  judgment  of  causation, 
that  every  event  must  have  a  cause. 

4.  The  judgment  is  the  result  of  custom  and  the  association  of  ideas. 
But  Hamilton  answers,  "  the  necessity  of  so  thinking  cannot  be  derived 
from  a  custom  of  so  thinking.  The  customary  never  reaches,  never  even 
approaches,  to  the  necessary.  On  this  theory,  also,  when  the  association 
is  recent,  the  causal  judgment  should  be  weak ;  and  rise  only  gradually  to 
full  force,  as  custom  becomes  inveterate.  But  we  do  not  find  that  this 
judgment  is  feebler  in  the  young,  and  stronger  in  the  old." 

These  are  all  the  theories  which  are  based  on  experience  ;  we  pass  to  an 
enumeration  of  those  which  give  an  a  priori  origin  to  our  idea  of  cause,  or 
resolve  it  into  a  law  of  our  mental  constitution. 

5.  The  causal  judgment  is  a  primary  revelation  to  the  intellect,  or  an 
ultimate  principle,  the  genesis  of  which  does  not  admit  of  explanation. 
This  opinion  is  adopted  by  Reid,  Kant,  Stewart,  and  Cousin,  and  is  now 
more  generally  received  than  any  other.  But,  entia  non  sunt  multiplicanda 
prmter  necessitatem ;  we  must  not  admit  any  phenomenon  to  be  an  ultimate 
fact,  till  all  the  modes  of  explaining  it  are  proved  to  be  unsound.  This 
opinion,  therefore,  can  only  be  admitted  provisorily ;  it  falls,  of  course,  if 
what  it  would  explain  can  be  explained  on  less  onerous  conditions. 

6.  Dr.  Brown  would  identify  our  conviction  of  the  causal  dependence 
witli  Qur  presumption  of  the  constancy  of  nature.    But  our  belief  in  tlio 


THE    IDEA    OF    CAUSE.  97 

permanency  of  the  laws  of  nature  only  inclines  us  to  expect  that,  when  tivo 
events  always  have  happened  in  immediate  succession,  one  of  them  always 
will  be  followed  by  .the  other;  while  the  causal  judgment  affirms  of  anyone 
event,  though  seemingly  isolated,  that  it  must  have  a  cause.  This  necessity 
to  suppose  a  cause  for  every  phenomenon.  Dr.  Brown  keeps  cautiously 
out  of  view,  thus  virtually  eliminating  all  that  requires  explanati'-m  in  the 
problem. 

7.  The  next  theory  is  an  endeavor  to  demonstrate  the  causal  judgment 
by  abstract  reasoning ;  in  other  words,  to  prove  by  argument  that  every 
event  must  have  a  cause.  The  attempt  is  vain,  because  our  knowledge 
of  causation  is  not  involved  or  implied  in  any  higher  act  of  judgment  or 
self-evident  proposition,  from  which  it  can  be  deduced  by  analysis.  The 
reasoning  which  would  trace  it  to  any  higher  principle  is  now  universally 
admitted  to  be  inconsequent. 

8.  Sir  William  Hamilton's  own  theory  resolves  our  positive  affirmation, 
that  every  event  must  have  a  cause,  into  a  mere  negation,  or  a  result  of 
the  incompetency  of  the  human  intellect.  E  nihilo  nihil  Jit ;  as  we  cannot 
imagine  something  to  be  created  out  of  nothing,  when  a  new  phenomenon 
appears,  we  are  compelled  to  believe  that  it  had  previously  existed  under 
other  forms.  These  "  other  forms,"  under  which  it  previously  existed,  are 
the  causes  of  the  phenomenon.  We  object  to  this  theory,  that  it  seems  to 
confound  being  with  doing,  or  existence  with  causation.  It  does  not  say, 
that  the  cause  produces  the  effect,  but  that  the  cause  is  the  effect ;  it  boldly 
identifies  the  two,  and  thus  falsifies  the  conditions  of  the  problem.  If  we 
believe  that  the  phenomenon  must  have  a  cause,  only  in  order  to  avoid 
believing  that  the  sum  of  existence  is  increased,  then  the  cause  and  the 
phenomenon  are  really  the  same  existence,  and  no  change,  no  event,  has 
taken  place.  Again,  the  causal  judgment  cannot  be  resolved  into  the 
maxim  e  nihilo  nihil  Jit,  for  the  former  is  the  more  comprehensive  of  the 
two ;  it  would  be  less  natural  to  deduce  the  judgment  from  the  maxim, 
than  the  maxim  from  the  judgment.  The  inference,  something  cannot  l>e 
created  out  of  nothing,  because  every  thing  must  have  a  cause,  is  surely  more 
natural  and  more  logical  than  to  say,  every  event  must  have  a  cause,  because 
something  cannot  be  created  out  of  nothing.  Still  further ;  the  theory  shows 
only  the  necessity  of  thinking  that  the  succession  of  events  is  continuous 
—  without  break  before  or  after  —  each  phenomenon  being  only  a  disguised 
repetition  of  its  predecessor  —  and  no  one  phenomenon  either  really  be- 
ginning to  be,  or  really  ceasing  to  exist.  It  does  not  prove  or  explain 
(what  we  are  still  obliged  to  believe,)  that  each  event  is  produced  or 
evolved  by  some  exertion  o^  force  —  some  power  in  action.  Hamilton's 
theoiy,  indeed,  totally  overlooks  this  notion  of  poiver,  or  force,  though  it  is 
a  necessary  element  in  our  idea  of  causation.  The  theory  explains  only 
the  succession,  or  continuity  of  events. 

9 


f$  FATALISM   AND   FREEWILL. 


CHAPTER    V. 


FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL. 


Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  The  question  respecting  the 
origin  and  validity  of  our  idea  of  cause,  which  formed  the  topic 
of  the  last  chapter,  has  been  greatly  obscured  and  perplexed, 
because  it  involves  several  distinct  inquiries,  which  are  too  fre- 
quently confounded  with  each  other.  I  endeavored  to  separate 
them,  and  to  consider  each  one  by  itself  in  the  natural  order. 
First,  the  popular  acceptation  of  the  word  cause  was  observed 
to  be  also  its  strict  and  metaphysical  meaning ;  as  efficiency  is 
universally  attributed  to  causation,  and  a  necessary  connection 
is  beheved  to  exist  between  cause  and  effect.  But  in  opposi- 
tion to  the  common  belief,  it  was  proved  that  we  can  nowhere 
detect  such  causes  in  the  material  universe  ;  the  observation  of 
external  nature  never  has  led,  and  never  can  lead,  to  the  dis- 
covery of  any  thing  beyond  the  invariable  succession  of  events, 
or  the  fixed  relation  of  antecedence  and  consequence,  —  a  rela- 
tion which  differs  as  widely  from  that  of  cause  and  effect,  as  any 
two  distinct  conceptions,  which  the  mind  is  capable  of  forming, 
do  from  each  other.  But  our  inability  to  discover  such  causes 
in  the  world  of  matter,  is  no  proof  (1.)  that  they  are  not  to  be 
found  anywhere ;  for  there  is  clear  and  indisputable  evidence 
that  they  exist  in  the  world  of  consciousness,  —  every  act,  every 
volition,  of  a  conscious  agent  being  a  true  cause.  This  inability 
does  not  even  prove  (2.)  that  there  are  no  such  causes  operat- 
ing in  external  nature,  as  the  limits  of  our  faculty  of  investiga- 
tion and  discoveiy  are  not,  surely,  the  limits  of  the  possibility 
of  things ;  —  and  the  general  proposition,  that  every  change  or 
event  must  have  a  cause,  is  one  that  we  can  no  more  doubt 
than  we  can  disbelieve  that  two  and  two  make  four.  For  a  still 
stronger  reason,  this  inability  does  not  prove  (3.)  that  we  have 
no  idea  of  efficient  cause,  and  therefore  no  knowledge  of  what 


FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL.  99 

the  word  power  means  ;  —  for  the  very  existence  of  the  problem, 
this  very  search  after  real  causes,  shows  that  we  have  a  clear 
idea  of  some  connection  between  two  events  which  is  funda- 
mentally different  from  mere  succession,  or  contiguity  in  time. 
The  arguments  and  illustrations  which  I  adduced,  went  to  dis- 
prove these  three  forms  of  skepticism,  these  three  unfounded 
conclusions,  or  false  inferences  from  the  admitted  fact,  that  our 
feeble  powers  of  observation  and  analysis  cannot  discover  any 
efficient  cause  whatever  in  the  material  universe. 

The  doctrine  of  immediate  Divine  agency.  —  In  arguing 
against  these  skeptical  views,  we  were  led  incidentally  to  state 
and  defend  what  I  believe  to  be  the  true  doctrine  of  causation ; 
—  namely,  that  one  particle  of  matter  never  acts  on  another 
particle ;  for  nearly  all  philosophers  admit  that  we  have  no 
proof  of  such  action,  and  when  we  come  to  look  closely  into  the 
subject,  it  appears  even  inconceivable  that  inert  matter  should 
thus  act,  or  have  any  real  power.  In  truth,  action  is  never 
even  attributed  to  matter,  except  by  a  metaphor,  or  figure  of 
speech,  as  is  clearly  shown  by  an  examination  of  the  language 
usually  employed.  The  only  real  action,  of  which  we  have  any 
knowledge  or  distinct  conception,  is  that  of  mind  or  person  ;  and 
the  field  of  this  activity  is  not  only  the  mind  itself,  but  the  ma- 
terial structure,  the  congeries  of  bones,  muscles,  and  nerves, 
which  we  inhabit,  all  the  voluntary  motions  of  which  are  pro- 
duced and  governed  by  the  indwelling  spirit,  the  kingly  and  in- 
divisible will.  Thus  we  came  to  the  conclusion,  that  spirit 
alone  moves,  while  matter  is  moved,  and  that  this  union,  for  a 
time,  of  a  body  with  our  personality,  shadows  forth  a  connection 
between  the  material  universe  and  the  Infinite  One.  How 
else,  indeed,  can  we  attach  any  meaning  to  the  attributes  of 
Omnipresence  and  Omnipotence  ?  The  unity  of  action,  the  reg- 
ularity of  antecedence  and  consequence  in  outward  events, 
which  we  commonly  designate  by  the  lame  metaphor  of  law, 
then  become  the  fitting  expression  of  the  consistent  doings  of  an 
all-wise  Being,  in  whom  there  is  no  variableness,  neither  shadow 
of  turning.  Our  bodies,  then,  are  kindred  to  organic  nature,  or 
the  external  universe,  in  a  double  sense ;  both  are  fashioned 


100  FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL. 

from  the  same  materials,  from  particles  of  brute  matter,  and 
both  are  informed,  actuated,  and  controlled  bj  an  indwelling 
})erson  ;  every  atom  in  this  tenement  of  clay  being  really  sub- 
ject to  his  sovereign  will,  though  in  the  one  case,  that  will  or 
power  (for  the  two  expressions  are  synonymous)  is  infinite,  and 
m  the  other  it  \&  finite,  or  limited,  so  that  the  whole  result  which 
was  contemplated  does  not  always  follow.  The  Creator,  then, 
is  no  longer  banished  from  his  creation,  nor  is  the  latter  an  or- 
phan, or  a  deserted  child.  It  is  not  a  great  machine,  that  was 
wound  up  at  the  beginning,  and  has  continued  to  run  on  ever 
since,  without  aid  or  direction  from  its  artificer.  As  well  might 
we  conceive  of  the  body  of  a  man  moving  about,  and  perform- 
ing all  its  appropriate  functions,  without  the  principle  of  life,  or 
the  indwelling  of  an  immortal  soul.  The  universe  is  not  lifeless 
or  soulless.  It  is  informed  by  God's  spirit,  pervaded  by  his 
power,  moved  by  his  wisdom,  directed  by  his  beneficence,  con- 
trolled by  his  justice.  The  harmony  of  physical  and  moral  laws 
is  not  a  mere  fancy,  nor  a  forced  analogy  ;  they  are  both  ex- 
pressions of  the  same  will,  manifestations  of  the  same  spirit. 
The  sublime  language  of  the  poet,  then  becomes  the  simple 
expression  of  a  philosophical  and  religious  truth  :  — 

"  I  have  felt 
A  presence  that  disturbs  me  with  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts  ;  a  sense  sublime 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused, 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean,  and  the  living  air, 

And  the  blue  sky ; 

A  motion  and  a  spirit,  that  impels 

all  olijects  of  all  thought, 

And  rolls  through  all  things." 

The  admirer  of  Wordsworth  will  perceive  that  I  have  omit- 
ted portions  of  lines,  which  deform  this  sublime  conception  with 
the  dark  and  mystical  doctrine  oi  pantheism,  —  a  doctrine  which 
no  one  will  confound  with  the  system  here  developed,  who  re- 
members that  the  complex  structure,  which  is  our  outward 
integument  for  a  season,  is  really  foreign  to  the  person,  and  dis- 
tinct from  the  will,  or  power,  by  which  it  is  moved  and  gov- 


FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL.  101 

emed.  Pantheism  is  to  the  Deity  what  materialism  is  to  man, 
a  mere  denial  of  any  spiritual  existence,  and  the  extinction  of 
all  idea  of  personality. 

Objections  to  this  theory  considered.  —  The  objection  to  this 
theory  of  causation,  that  it  is  beneath  the  dignity  of  the  Almighty 
to  put  his  hand  to  every  thing,  is  founded  on  a  false  analogy,  as 
is  seen  by  the  form  in  which  Aristotle  states  it.  "If  it  befit  not 
the  state  and  majesty  of  Xerxes,  the  great  king  of  Persia,  that 
he  should  stoop  to  do  all  the  meanest  offices  himself,  much  less 
can  this  be  thought  suitable  for  God."  The  two  cases  do  not 
correspond  in  the  very  feature  essential  to  the  argument.  An 
earthly  potentate,  unable  to  execute  with  his  own  hand  all  the 
affairs  of  which  he  has  control,  is  obliged  to  delegate  the  larger 
portion  of  them  to  his  servants ;  selecting  the  lightest  part  for 
himself,  he  gratifies  his  pride  by  calling  it  also  the  noblest; 
though  the  distinction  is  factitious,  there  being  no  real  differ- 
ence, in  point  of  honor  or  dignity,  between  them.  But  Omnip- 
otence needs  no  minister,  and  is  not  exhausted  or  wearied  by 
the  care  of  a  universe.  Power  in  action  is  more  truly  sublime 
than  power  in  repose  ;  and  surely  it  is  not  derogatory  to  Divine 
energy  to  sustain  and  continue  that  which  it  was  certainly  not 
beneath  Divine  wisdom  to  create  and  appoint.  Rightly  con- 
sidered, to  guide  the  falling  of  a  leaf  from  a  tree  is  an  office  as 
worthy  of  Omnipotence  as  the  creation  of  a  world.  "Are  not 
two  sparrows  sold  for  a  farthing  ?  and  one  of  them  shall  not  fall 
on  the  ground  without  your  Father." 

Equally  lame  is  the  oft-repeated  comparison  of  the  unirerse 
to  a  machine  of  man's  device,  which  is  considered  the  more  per- 
fect the  less  mending  or  interposition  it  requires.  A  machine 
is  a  labor-saving  contrivance,  fitted  to  supply  the  weakness  and 
deficiencies  of  him  who  uses  it.  Where  the  want  does  not  exist, 
it  is  absurd  to  suppose  the  creation  of  a  remedy.  Human  con- 
ceptions of  the  Deity  are  for  ever  at  fault  in  imputing  to  him 
the  errors  and  deficiencies  which  belong  to  our  own  limited  fac- 
ulties and  dependent  condition.  Hence  the  idea  of  the  Epicu- 
reans, that  sublime  indifference  and  unbroken  repose  are  the 

9* 


102  FATALISM    AND    rRi:i:WILL. 

only  states  of  being  worthy  of  the  gods.  Viewed  in  the  liglit 
3f  true  philosophy,  no  less  than  of  Christianity,  hoAv  base  and 
grovelling  does  this  conception  appear !  Substitute  for  it  the 
Christian  idea  of  the  unceasing  watchfulness  of  a  Parent,  and 
the  active  and  constant  beneficence  of  an  Almighty  Father  and 
Friend,  and  it  sinks  into  its  true  character,  as  a  degrading  doc- 
trine of  heathen  mythology. 

Divine  action  equally  incessant  in  the  physical  and  moral  uni- 
verse. —  In  truth,  we  have  only  to  decide  whether  it  is  more 
likely  that  the  complex  system  of  things  in  the  midst  of  which 
we  live,  —  the  beautiful  harmonies  between  the  organic  and  the 
inorganic  world,  the  nice  arrangements  and  curious  adaptations 
that  obtain  in  each,  the  simplicity  and  uniformity  of  the  general 
plan  to  which  the  vast  multitude  of  details  may  be  reduced,  — 
whether  this  system,  I  say,  is  now  sustained,  and  prevented 
from  falling  into  nothingness  and  ruin,  by  one  all-wise  and  all- 
powerful  Being,  or  by  particles  of  brute  matter,  acting  of  them- 
selves, without  any  immediate  direction,  oversight,  or  control. 
Remember  we  have  no  proof,  that  such  particles  can  exert  any 
causal  agency  whatever  ;  that  science  ijever  has  discovered,  and 
never  can  discover,  a  single  efficient  cause,  properly  belonging 
to  matter,  in  the  whole  material  universe ;  that  the  only  power 
in  action  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  is  that  of  mind  upon 
matter,  and  upon  itself,  as  evinced  in  our  own  consciousness, 
and  in  the  voluntary  movements  of  our  bodies  dependent  on  the 
will  or  person  within ;  and  that  the  almost  unceasing  movement 
and  change  of  all  the  material  particles  around  us,  that  are  not 
dependent  upon  our  own  wills,  is  a  fact  to  be  accounted  for  by 
some  efficient  and  adequate  cause.  The  moral  government  of 
God  is  admitted  to  be  direct,  incessant,  and  continuous,  by  all 
theists  who  admit  his  moral  attributes,  and  who  thereby  furnish 
a  basis  for  religious  faith  and  practice.  This  is  evident  from 
all  the  ordinances  of  religion  ;  prayer  being  a  mockery,  unless 
we  believe  it  is  heard,  and  worship  not  really  obligatory,  unless 
it  is  specially  enjoined.  Then  why  is  not  his  physical  govern- 
ment, so  to  speak,  his  causation  and  control  of  movement  and 


FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL.  103 

change  in  the  material  universe,  equally  immediate  and  unceas- 
ing ?  *     I  believe  that  it  is,  and  when  rightly  viewed,  the  flut- 


*  In  his  strictures  upon  this  doctrine  and  the  reasonings  by  which  it  is 
supported,  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill  objects  to  "  the  inference  that,  because  Volition 
is  an  efficient  cause,  therefore  it  is  the  only  cause,  and  the  direct  agent  in 
producing  even  what  is  apparently  produced  by  something  else.  Voli- 
tions," he  says,  "  are  not  known  to  produce  any  thing  directly  except  ner- 
vous action,  for  the  will  influences  even  the  muscles  only  through  the 
nerves.  Though  it  were  granted,  then,  that  every  phenomenon  has  an 
efficient,  and  not  merely  a  phenomenal  cause,  and  that  volition,  in  the  case 
of  the  particular  phenomena  which  are  known  to  be  produced  by  it,  is 
that  efficient  cause ;  are  we  therefore  to  say,  with  these  writers,  that  since 
we  know  of  no  other  efficient  cause,  and  ought  not  to  assume  one  without 
evidence,  there  is  no  other,  and  volition  is  the  direct  cause  of  all  phenom- 
ena ?  A  more  outrageous  stretch  of  inference  could  hardly  be  made." 
And  again,  "  The  supporters  of  the  Volition  Theory,"  which  is  the  name 
he  gives  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Immediate  Agency  of  the  Deity,  "  ask  us  to 
infer  that  volition  causes  evet'y  thing,  for  no  reason  except  that  it  causes  one 
particular  thing ;  although  that  one  phenomenon,  far  from  being  a  type  of 
all  natural  phenomena,  is  eminently  peculiar ;  its  laws "  bearing  scarcely 
any  resemblance  to  those  of  any  other  phenomenon,  whether  of  inorganic 
or  of  organic  nature."  —  System  of  Logic,  3d  ed.  vol.  i.  pp.  370-372. 

We  presume  Mr.  Mill  will  admit  it  to  be  a  sound  logical  maxim,  that 
no  more  causes  must  he  assigned  than  lohat  are  absolutely  necessary  to  account  for 
the  phenomena.  The  reasoning  to  which  he  objects  may  be  briefly  stated 
thus  :  —  Volition  is  the  only  known  power  in  the  universe ;  changes  in  mat- 
ter arc  the  phenomena  to  be  accounted  for;  and  as  many  such  changes  (to 
wit,  the  movements  of  our  own  limbs  and  bodily  organs,)  are  confessedly 
produced  by  human  volition,  the  residue  of  them  must  be  attributed  to  some 
other  Will,  which,  by  its  omnipresence  and  omnipotence,  is  capable  of  (/ 
producing  them. 

We  contend  that  this  reasoning  is  eminently  logical,  and  in  proof  of  this 
assertion,  we  once  more  cite  against  Mr.  Mill  his  own  System  of  Logic. 
The  reasoning  here  employed  is  what  he  calls  the  method  of  "  induction 
by  simple  enumeration,"  —  a  law  being  assumed  to  hold  good  in  all  cases, 
because  it  has  been  found  to  hold  good  in  7nany  cases,  and  not  one  instance 
has  been  found  to  the  contrary.  It  is  curious  to  find  Mr.  Mill,  in  the  fol- 
lowing passage,  asserting  that  this  process  is  entirely  valid  and  legitimate 
in  reference  to  the  law  of  universal  causation,  the  very  instance  to  which 
we  are  here  applying  it. 

*'  Induction  by  simple  enumeration,"  he  says,  "  or,  in  other  words,  gen- 
eralization of  an  observed  fact  from  the  mere  absence  of  any  known  in- 


104  FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL. 

tering  of  a  leaf  to  the  ground,  after  it  has  been  disengaged  from 
its  parent  bough,  furnishes  evidence  of  Divine  agency  as  direct 
as  if  the  grave  should  give  up  its  dead. 

"  Estne  Dei  sedes,  nisi  terra,  et  poiitus,  et  aer, 
Et  coelum,  et  virtus  1     Superos  quid  quterimus  ultra  ? 
Jupiter  est  quodcumque  vides,  quocuraquc  moveris." 

Birth  is  surely  as  wonderful  —  as  miraculous,  if  that  term  be 
preferred  —  as  resuscitation  ;  and  birth  is  constantly  going  on 
all  around  us.  The  greater  frequency  of  the  act  certainly  does 
not  lessen  its  marvellousness,  or  render  it  easier  of  accomplish- 
ment ;  though  the  repetition  exhausts  and  deadens  our  emotion 
of  wonder,  and  we  then  conceal  under  the  lame  metaphor  of 

stance  to  the  contrary,  is  by  no  means  the  illicit  logical  process  in  all  cases 
which  it  is  in  most.  It  is  delusive  and  insufficient  exactly  in  proportion 
as  the  subject-matter  of  the  observation  is  special  and  Umited  in  extent. 
As  the  sphere  widens,  this  unscientific  method  becomes  less  and  less  liable 
to  mislead  ;  and  the  most  universal  class  of  truths,  the  law  of  causation,  for 
instance,  and  the  principles  of  number  and  geometry,  are  duly  and  satisfac- 
torily proved  by  that  method  alone,  nor  are  they  susceptible  of  any  other  proof" 
—  Id.  Book  III,  ch.  xxi.  §  2. 

The  case  we  are  now  considering  is  one  of  universal  generalization ;  it 
embraces  aU  the  phenomena  of  the  material  universe,  every  change  in  which 
requires  a  cause.  Human  bodies,  of  course,  are  a  part  of  this  universe, — 
as  much  so  as  the  ground  these  bodies  tread  upon,  or  the  air  they  breathe. 
All  the  voluntary  movements  of  these  bodies,  which  are  repeated  and  varied 
till  their  number  exceeds  all  calculation,  are  known  to  proceed  from  the 
Will  as  their  efficient  cause ;  and  the  Will  is  the  only  known  instance  of  effi- 
cient causation  in  the  universe.  The  law  of  "  induction  by  simple  enumera- 
tion," then,  is  strictly  applicable  in  this  case ;  and  the  conclusion  to  which 
it  leads  us,  is,  that  all  other  physical  events  —  from  the  quivering  of  an 
aspen  leaf  up  to  the  flight  of  the  planets  in  their  courses  —  are  also  atti-ib- 
utable  to  Will,  and  that  Will  must  be  one  proportioned  in  power  and  com- 
prehensiveness to  the  variety  and  grandeur  of  its  efiects.  That  this  Will 
belongs  to  a  Being  diiFering  from  all  those  whose  existence  is  made  known 
to  us  by  the  testimony  of  the  senses,  is  not  a  circumstance  which  vitiates 
the  argument,  for  the  reasoning  is  addressed  only  to  the  Theist.  The 
muscular  movements  of  different  individuals  are  ascribed  respectively  to 
the  volitions  of  those  individuals.  ,  The  Will  has  efficient  causative  agency 
as  such,  and  not  because  it  is  the  Will  of  one  man  or  another — not  because 
it  is  human  or  divine. 


FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL.  105 

law,  and  the  blank  hypothesis  of  machinery,  the  direct  and  per- 
petually recurring  action  of  Deity. 

The  argument  for  the  Divine  existence,  then,  is  ever  freshly 
presented  to  us  by  the  continuance,  no  less  than  by  the  begin- 
ning, of  all  things.  It  proceeds  not  only  from  the  creation  of 
the  race,  but  from  the  birth  of  the  individual.  In  the  seed 
which  swelled  under  the  last  night's  rain,  in  the  shoot  which 
appeared  under  this  morning's  sun,  we  find  proof  of  ever-pres- 
ent and  ever-acting  power.     To  the  reflecting  theist, 

"  The  world's  unwithered  countenance 
Is  bright  as  at  creation's  day," 

and  reflects  its  Maker's  image  just  as  clearly. 

The  fatalistic  doctrine  of  causation.  —  The  doctrine  of  causa- 
tion which  I  have  thus  endeavored  to  develop,  stands  in  striking 
contrast  with  the  only  other  theory  of  it  which  I  find  occasion 
here  to  notice,  —  a  theory,  indeed,  which  does  not  rest  upon  any 
new  fundamental  principle,  but,  beginning  with  the  general  law 
of  causation  as  applied  to  the  physical  universe,  carries  it  out  in 
all  its  universality,  with  an  affectation  of  great  logical  rigor,  to 
its  inevitable  conclusion  in  a  sweeping  system  of  fatalism.  It 
would  be  difficult  to  find  a  more  impressive  illustration  than  is 
afforded  by  this  theory,  of  the  danger  of  commencing  with  a 
single  abstract  proposition,  asserted  to  be  original  and  spontane- 
ous, a  necessary  and  universal  law  of  human  belief,  and  pushing 
it,  in  all  its  strictness,  to  its  remotest  consequences,  unchecked 
by  facts,  and  unappalled  either  by  the  irrational  or  the  revolting 
character  of  the  principles  to  which  it  leads.  It  furnishes  the 
most  striking  example  of  the  mischief  of  applying  metaphysical 
reasoning  to  practical  subjects. 

The  theory  begins  with  the  general  law  of  causality,  —  that 
every  event  must  have  a  cause,  —  this  being  understood  either 
absolutely,  or,  as  in  its  application  to  material  phenomena,  to 
signify  only  invariable  antecedence  and  consequence.  The 
whole  doctrine  depends  on  this  word  invariable,  taken  absolutely, 
and  on  the  assjumed  universality  and  necessary  character  of  the 
Ufcsv  itself,  in  virtue  of  its  primitive  and  categorical   nature. 


106  FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL. 

Every  event,  of  course,  is  surrounded  by  other  events,  and 
must  be  considered  as  being  at  the  same  time  both  antecedent 
and  consequent, —  as  necessarily  resulting  from  those  which 
,  preceded,  and  necessarily  followed  by  those  which  come  after  it, 
—  and  thus,  as  forming  one  link  in  an  adamantine  chain  which 
extends  from  eternity  to  eternity.  All  occurrences  whatever 
have  their  environment  of  circumstances,  with  which  they  stand 
in  necessary  and  fixed  relations  by  an  absolute  law ;  and  the 
state  of  the  universe  at  any  one  moment,  in  all  its  parts,  from 
the  creation  of  a  world  to  the  stirring  of  an  aspen  leaf,  could 
not  possibly  have  been  ditFerent  from  what  it  is.  Still  further, 
the  system  is  not  content,  after  thus  "binding  Nature  fast  in 
fate,"  to  "  leave  free  the  human  will."  Every  volition,  every 
act,  of  a  conscious  agent  is  preceded  by  certain  states  of  mind, 
certain  sensations,  beliefs,  and  emotions,  all  involuntary,  upon 
which  it  is  necessarily  consequent ;  and  it  could  no  more  have 
been  unlike  what  it  is,  than  our  earth  could  suddenly  and  cause- 
lessly cease  turning  upon  its  axis,  and  revolving  round  the  sun. 

V  Nay,  more ;  —  with  a  Titan-like  audacity  of  speculation,  we 
must  scale  the  throne  of  Omnipotence  itself,  and  say  —  if  the 
utterance  of  such  a  doctrine  be  not  blasphemy  —  that  every 
thought  and  act  even  of  the  Almighty  is  but  the  inevitable  con- 
sequence of  all  that  has  gone  before,  the  necessary  cause  or 
forerunner  of  all  that  comes  after  it. 

Consequences  of  this  doctrine.  —  I  have  endeavored  to  pre- 
sent this  astounding  theory  in  its  simplest  and  most  abstract 
form,  in  order  to  show  clearly  the  grounds  on  which  it  rests, 
and  the  nature  of  the  reasoning  by  which  it  is  supported.  It 
is  the  consistent  and  thorough  apphcation  of  a  single  abstract 
principle,  assumed  to  be  a  primitive  and  necessary  law  of  the 
human  understanding,  to  the  whole  order  of  actual,  possible, 
and  conceivable  events.  \'"Unlike  the  skepticism  of  Hume,  which 
aims  merely  to  shake  all  convictions,  and  to  reduce  all  princi- 

'-''  pies  to  uncertainty  and  doubt,  this  system?  appears  as  the  dog- 
matism of  infidelity,  the  demonstration  of  fatalism,'  If  we  are 
entitled  to  reason  a  priori  about  matters  of  factpfliese  are  the 

./     conclusions  in  which  we  must  rest.     Belief  in  a  miracle,  of 


FATALISM   AND    FREEWILL.  107 

course,  is  an  absurdity ;  a  revelation  from  God  to  man  is  an 
impossible  idea.  All  evidence,  all  testimony,  adduced  in  proof 
of  such  events,  must  be  rejected  at  once,  and  without  examina- 
tion ;  it  can  be  nothing  but  moral  evidence,  made  up  of  contin- 
gent truths,  which,  in  the  presence  of  necessary  convictions,  or 
truths  known  a  priori^  vanish  like  mist  before  the  sun.  This 
theory  is  the  pivot  on  which  the  whole  system  of  Spinoza  rests 
and  turns,  and  it  is  the  avowed  essence  of  German  Transcen- 
dentalism. As  such,  it  is  taken  up  and  expounded  with  singu- 
lar clearness  and  method  by  Fichte,  who  is  far  the  ablest  rea- 
soner  in  that  school,  not  even  excepting  Kant.  In  Fichte's 
work  on  the  Destination  of  Man,  which  contains  a  summary  of 
his  philosophical  opinions,  it  is  so  fully  developed,  that  I  shall 
give  you  the  application  of  it  mostly  in  his  own  words. 

Fichte's  exposition  of  Fatalism,  —  "  Why,  then,  has  Nature," 
asks  Fichte,  "■  amidst  the  manifold,  infinite,  possible  varieties  of 
being,  assumed  precisely  these,  and  no  others  ?  For  this  rea- 
son, —  that  certain  others  had  preceded  them,  and  these,  in  the 
same  manner,  will  determine  those  which  shall  follow ;  and 
these  again,  others,  to  infinity.  Were  the  smallest  thing  at  the 
present  moment  different  from  what  it  is,  then  necessarily,  in 
the  following  moment,  would  something  else  be  difi^erent,  and 
again  in  the  succeeding  one,  and  so  on  for  ever 

"  In  every  moment  of  her  duration,  Nature  is  one  connected 
whole  ;  in  every  moment  must  every  individual  part  be  what  it 
is,  because  all  others  are  what  they  are ;  and  a  single  grain  of 
sand  could  not  be  moved  from  its  place,  without,  however  im- 
perceptibly to  us,  changing  something  throughout  all  parts  of 
the  immeasurable  whole.  Every  moment  of  duration  is  deter- 
mined by  all  past  moments,  and  will  determine  all  future  mo- 
ments ;  and  even  the  position  of  a  grain  of  sand  cannot  be  con- 
ceived other  than  it  is,  without  supposing  other  changes,  to  an 
indefinite  extent.  Let  us  imagine,  for  instance,  this  grain  of 
sand  lying  some  few  feet  further  inland  than  it  actually  does  ; 
then  must  the  storm-wind  that  drove  it  in  from  the  sea-shore 
have  been  stronger  than  it  actually  was ;  then  must  the  pre- 
ceding state  of  the  atmosphere,  by  which  this  wind  was  occa- 


108  FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL. 

sioned,  and  its  degree  of  strength  determined,  have  been  diffei ' 
ent  from  what  it  actually  was,  and  the  previous  changes  which 
gave  rise  to  this  particular  weather,  and  so  on.  We  must  sup- 
pose a  different  temperature  from  that  which  really  existed,  — 
a  different  constitution  of  the  bodies  which  influenced  this  tem- 
perature :  the  fertility  or  barrenness  of  countries,  the  duration 
of  the  life  of  man,  depend,  unquestionably,  in  a  great  degree  on 
temperature.  How  can' we  know,  since  it  is  not  given  us  to 
penetrate  the  arcana  of  nature,  and  it  is  therefore  allowable  to 
speak  of  possibilities,  —  how  can  we  know,  that  in  such  a  state 
of  the  weather  as  we  have  been  supposing,  in  order  to  carry 
this  grain  of  sand  a  few  yards  further,  some  ancestor  of  yours 
might  not  have  perished  from  hunger,  or  cold,  or  heat,  long  be- 
fore the  birth  of  that  son  from  whom  you  are  descended,  and 
thus  you  might  never  have  been  at  all ;  and  all  that  you  have 
ever  done,  and  all  that  you  ever  hope  to  do  in  this  world,  must 
have  been  hindered,  in  order  that  a  grain  of  sand  might  lie  in 
a  different  place  ? 

"  I  myself,  with  all  that  I  call  mine,  am  but  a  link  in  this  chain 
of  rigid  natural  necessity.  There  was  a  time,  —  so  others  tell 
me,  and  although  I  am  not  immediately  conscious  of  it,  I  am 
compelled  by  reason  to  admit  it  as  a  truth,  —  there  was  a  time 
in  which  I  was  not,  and  a  moment  in  which  I  began  to  be.  I 
then  only  existed  for  others,  not  yet  for  myself.  Since  then, 
myself,  my  conscious  being,  has  gradually  developed  itself,  and 
I  have  discovered  in  myself  certain  faculties  and  capacities, 
wants,  and  natural  desires.  I  am  a  definite  creature,  which 
came  into  existence  at  a  certain  time.  I  have  not  come  into 
existence  by  my  own  power.  It  would  be  the  highest  absurd- 
ity to  suppose  that,  before  I  was  at  all,  I  could  bring  myself 
into  existence ;  I  have,  then,  been  called  into  being  by  a  power 
out  of  myself.  And  what  should  this  be  but  the  universal 
power  of  Nature,  of  which  I  form  a  part  ?  The  time  at  which 
my  existence  commenced,  and  the  attributes  belonging  to  me, 
were  determined  by  this  universal  power  of  Nature ;  and  all 
the  forms  under  which  these  my  inborn  attributes  have  since 
manifested  themselves,  have  been  determined  by  the  selfsame 


FATALISM   AND    FREEWILL.  109 

power.  It  was  impossible  that,  instead  of  me,  another  should 
have  arisen ;  —  it  is  impossible  that,  at  any  moment  of  my  ex- 
istence, I  should  be  other  than  what  I  am. 

"  That  my  successive  states  of  being  have  been  accompanied 
by  consciousness,  that  some  of  them,  such  as  thoughts,  resolu- 
tions, and  the  like,  appear  to  be  nothing  but  various  modifica- 
tions of  consciousness,  need  not  perplex  my  reasonings.  It  is 
the  nature  of  the  plant  regularly  to  develop  itself;  of  the  animal 
to  move  towards  the  attainment  of  certain  ends ;  of  the  man  to 
think.  Why  should  I  hesitate  to  acknowledge  the  latter  as  an 
original  power  of  Nature,  as  well  as  the  first  and  second? 
Thought  is  assuredly  a  far  higher  and  more  subtile  operation  of 
Nature,  than  the  formation  of  a  plant,  or  the  motion  of  an  ani- 
mal ;  I  cannot  explain  how  the  power  of  Nature  can  produce 
thought ;  but  can  I  better  explain  its  operation  in  the  produc- 
tion of  a  plant,  in  the  motion  of  an  animal  ?  Thought  exists  in 
Nature,  as  well  as  the  creative  power  which  gives  birth  to  the 
plant.  The  thinking  being  arises  and  develops  himself  by  nat- 
ural laws,  and  exists  through  Nature.  There  is,  therefore,  in 
Nature  an  original  thinking  power,  as  well  as  an  original  plant- 
creating  power 

"  Figure,  motion,  thought,  in  me,  are  not  consequent  on  one 
another,  but  are  the  simultaneous  and  harmonious  developments 
of  what  might  be  called  the  man-forming  power,  necessarily 
manifesting  itself  in  a  creature  of  my  species.  I  am  not  what  I 
am,  because  I  think  so,  or  will  so,  —  nor  do  I  think  and  will,  be- 
cause I  am,  —  but  I  am,  and  I  think,  both  absolutely  and  nec- 
essarily. I  am  that  which  I  am,  because,  in  the  connection  of 
the  great  whole,  only  such  a  one,  and  absolutely  no  other,  was 
possible  ;  and  a  spirit  who  could  look  through  all  Nature,  would, 
from  the  knowledge  of  a  single  man,  be  able  to  determine  what 
men  had  been  before,  and  what  they  would  be  at  any  moment. 
In  one  person,  he  would  obtain  the  knowledge  of  all.  All  that 
I  am  and  shall  be,  I  am  and  shall  be  of  necessity,  and  it  is  im- 
possible that  I  should  be  otherwise.  Give  to  Nature  a  single 
definition  of  a  person,  let  it  be  ever  so  apparently  trivial,  —  the 
course  of  a  muscle,  the  turn  of  a  haii',  —  she  would  be  able, 

10 


110  FATALISM   AND    FREEWILL. 

had  she  a  universal  consciousness,  to  declare  A^hat  would  be 
his  whole  course  of  thought  during  his  whole  course  of  being. 
Most  certainly  I  cannot,  by  all  my  repentance,  by  all  my  reso- 
lutions, produce  the  smallest  alteration  in  the  appointed  course 
of  things.  I  stand  under  the  inexorable  power  of  rigid  Neces- 
sity ;  should  she  have  destined  me  to  become  a  fool  and  a  prof- 
ligate, a  fool  and  a  profligate  without  doubt  I  shall  become. 
Should  she  have  destined  me  to  be  wise  and  good,  wise  and 
good  I  shall  doubtless  be.  There  is  neither  merit  nor  blame  to 
be  ascribed  to  her  or  to  me.  She  stands  under  her  own  laws, 
—  I  under  hers.  It  would  therefore  contribute  to  my  tranquil- 
ity to  subject  eveii  my  wishes  to  that  power  to  which  my  exist- 
ence is  entirely  subject.  —  O,  these  rebellious  wishes  I " 

Practical  results  of  fatalism.  —  There  is  no  ambiguity  in  this 
language,  no  reserve  in  the  statement  of  the  doctrir>e.  Fichte 
was  a  daring  speculatist,  and  did  not  shrink  from  the  enuncia- 
.tion  of  the  theory  of  philosophical  necessity  in  all  its  rigor  and 
completeness.  The  practical  lesson,  the  rule  for  the  conduct  of 
}ife,  which  is  deducible  from  this  theory,  may  be  very  briefly 
stated ;  it  is  the  practical  fatalism  of  the  East  r  —  Make  no  vain 
efforts  to  alter  that  course  of  things  which  proceeds  by  its  own 
irresistiUe  laws  ;  do  not  contend  with  your  destiny.  Submit  to 
be  carried  along,  Hke  a  leaf  floating  on  the  waters,  whitherso^ 
ever  the  stream  may  lead.  Embosomed  in  nature,  and  borne 
along  with  it,  let  your  passive  intellect  reflect  like  a  mirror 
whatever  images  may  stray  over  its  surface.  Utter  the  word 
that  is  in  you,  perform  the  act  to  which  you  are  prompted,  and 
spend  no  thought  about  the  consequences  of  either;  these  will 
inevitably  come  as  they  are  determined,  be  your  strivings  and 
exclamations  what  they  may.  Strictly  speaking,  you  do  not 
act,  but  are  acted  upon ;  contemplation,  and  not  action,  is  your 
fate. 

Exposition  of  Spinoza's  system.  —  I  have  said  that  Spinoza's 
system  is  but  the  development  and  completion  of  this  theory. 
As  nature  is  one  connected  whole,  and  I  am  but  a  part  of  it, 
and  every  individual  part  of  it  must  be  what  it  is,  because  all 
others  are  what  they  are,  there  is  truly  but  one  substance,  and 


FATALISM   AND    FREEWILL.  HI 

that  exists  by  necessity.  Thought  and  extension  are  its  attri- 
butes, and  both  are  infinite,  like  the  substance  in  which  they 
inhere.  The  essence  of  a  thing,  or  its  formal  cause,  is  its  inter- 
nal constitution,  or  that  which  makes  it  what  it  is.  In  this 
sensai,  we  may  speak  of  a  cause  of  all  things,  or  of  nature  ;  but  it 
is  an  indwelling^  or  immanent,  cause,  —  and  not  one  which  is 
really  distinct  from  the  thing  itself,  and  operates  upon  it  from 
without.  We  may  contemplate  Nature  as  a  cause,  that  is,  as 
operating  on  itself,  and  causing  all  things  in  itself  by  its  own 
inherent  necessity,  every  event  being  the  necessary  result  of 
all  other  events,  and  every  part  being  determined,  or  made 
what  it  is,  by  all  the  other  parts ;  —  this  is  the  first  conception, 
and  in  this  sense.  Nature  is  a  cause,  but  a  cause  only  of  itself; 
it  is,  in  technical  phrase,  natura  naturans,  or  Nature  workino- 
out  itself;  and  thus  understood.  Nature  is  God.  But  we  may 
also  contemplate  nature  as  an  effect,  as  something  produced, 
natura  naturata,  nature  worked  out,  or  made  what  it  is ;  yet,  as 
before,  it  is  so  made,  or  worked  out,  only  by  itself,  and  by  vir- 
tue of  its  own  inherent  and  necessary  laws ;  —  in  this  sense, 
there  is  nothing  but  nature,  and  there  is  no  God. 

The  doctrine  is  abstruse  ;'but  as  it  is  only  the  logical  devel- 
opment of  a  single  principle,  a  train  of  consequences  drawn  from 
one  axiom,  we  cannot  complain  that  it  is  unintelligible.  We 
hear  so  much  about  Spinozism  at  the  present  day,  its  spirit 
pervades  so  large  a  portion  of  the  reputed  philosophy  of  our 
times,  and  so  many  of  its  doctrines,  or  corollaries  from  those 
doctrines,  are  pressed  home  upon  us,  without  any  distinct  indi- 
cation of  their  source,  that  it  is  worth  while  to  give  some  effort 
and  attention  to  the  attempt  to  understand  it. 

The  conception  of  an  immanent  cause  illustrated.  —  In  illus- 
tration of  what  I  have  stated,  then,  let  me  ask  you  to  contem- 
plate a  particular  substance,  —  a  piece  of  iron,  for  instance  ;  it 
has  certain  qualities,  or  attributes,  such  as  hardness,  weight, 
malleability,  etc. ;  and  these  qualities  may  be  considered  as  the 
results,  or  effects,  of  the  internal  constitution  of  the  iron,  or  the 
relation  of  its  primary  particles  or  atoms  to  each  other.  This 
internal  constitution  being  altered  or  affected  in  any  way,  the 


112  FATALISM   AND    FREEWILL. 

qualities  which  result  from  it,  or  are  caused  by  it,  are  altered 
also  ;  it  becomes  more  or  less  hard,  weighty,  malleable,  etc.  ; 
perhaps  it  loses  some  quality  entirely,  as  when  it  ceases  to  be 
malleable.  This  internal  constitution  of  tlie  body,  the  old  phi- 
losophers called  its  essence^  or  that  which  makes  it  what>it  is  ; 
and  they  wasted  a  great  deal  of  labor  in  searching  after  the 
essences  of  things ;  for,  as  all  the  qualities  are  derived  from  the 
essence,  and  depend  upon  it,  if  we  knew  the  essence,  we  could 
tell  beforehand  what  all  its  qualities  must  be,  they  being  deduc- 
ible  from  it ;  just  as  the  geometric  properties  of  a  triangle  are 
deducible  from  the  geometric  definition  of  a  triangle.  Now,  as 
the  qualities  of  a  substance  form  our  whole  distinct  conception 
of  that  substance,  and  as  the  essence  produces,  or  causes,  these 
qualities,  it  is  quite  intelligible,  in  one  sense  of  the  word  cause, 
to  say  that  the  substance  causes  or  determines  itself;  and  this 
is  what  Spinoza  means  when  he  speaks  of  natura  naturans. 
Nature  causing  itself,  or  being  a  cause  ;  —  in  which  sense.  Na- 
ture is  God,  or,  in  other  words,  God  is  the  indwelling,  or  im- 
manent, cause  of  nature;  —  not  a  foreign  cause,  acting  upon  it, 
or  creating  it,  from  without,  but  its  essence,  or  internal  cause  ; 
—  that  is,  its  internal  constitution,  on  which  all  its  qualities 
depend. 

Again,  we  may  contemplate  the  piece  of  iron  without  refer- 
ence to  the  internal  origin,  or  source,  of  its  qualities,  but  simply 
as  a  particular  substance  manifesting  certain  attributes.  This 
is  the  idea  of  natura  naturata,  or  nature  worked  out,  and  exist- 
ing as  a  whole  ;  in  this  sense,  there  is  nothing  but  nature,  and 
there  is  no  God.  Observe  further,  that  these  two  ideas  of  na- 
ture differ  only  formally,  and  not  objectively,  from  each  other ; 
they  are  but  two  aspects  of,  or  two  modes  of  considering,  one 
and  the  same  Nature.  So  the  iron  is  one  and  the  same  body, 
whether  we  regard  its  qualities  as  constantly  produced  or  mani- 
fested—  that  \s^  caused — by  its  internal  constitution,  or  essence, 
or  look  at  it  merely  as  an  aggregate  of  those  qualities,  inhering 
in  one  substratum.  The  criticism  of  Dr.  Reid,  then,  is  w^ell 
founded,  when  he  says,  that  in  Spinoza's  system  "  there  neither 
is,  nor  can  be,  a  cause  at  all ;  nothing  acts,  but  every  thing  is 


FATALISM   AND    FREEWILL.  113 

acted  upon  ;  nothing  moves,  bat  every  thing  is  moved ;  all  is 
passion,  without  action,  —  all  instrument,  without  an  agent ; 
and  every  thing  that  is,  or  was,  or  shall  be,  has  that  necessary 
existence  in  its  season,  which  we  commonly  consider  as  the  pre- 
rogative of  the  First  Cause."  The  cause  that  is  spoken  of  in 
this  system  is  not  an  efficient,  but  a  formal,  cause ;  that  is,  the 
inherent  necessity  of  the  thing  to  exist,  and  to  be  what  it  is. 
The  universe,  or  the  totality  of  things,  is  presented  by  Spinoza 
as  one  connected  whole,  but  under  a  double  aspect :  —  first,  as 
necessarily  existing,  its  existence  at  any  one  moment  being  abso- 
lutely determined,  or  caused,  by  its  existence  at  the  preceding 
moment ;  and  in  this  view,  God  is  identified  with  nature,  and 
we  have  a  system  of  pantheism ;  —  secondly,  as  the  only  sub- 
stance or  necessary  being,  without  regard  to  the  manner  in 
which  its  successive  states  of  being  are  manifested  or  developed ; 
and  m  this  view,  there  is  nothing  but  nature,  and  the  scheme  is 
one  of  atheistic  fatalism.  The  germ  of  this  latter  doctrine  may 
be  found  in  the  ancient  speculation  of  Democritus  and  Leucip- 
pus,  amounting  to  an  atheistic  fatality  founded  on  the  mechanical 
or  corpuscular  philosophy.  Dr.  Reid  justly  says  of  it,  that  it  is 
"the  genuine  and  most  tenable  system  of  necessity;"  and  if  it 
be  true,  aU  reasoning  to  prove  the  existence  of  a  First  Cause 
"  must  be  given  up  as  fallacious." 

Spinozism  the  logical  consequence  of  attributing  efficient  causa- 
tion to  matter.  —  It  would  not  be  difiicult  to  show,  in  respect 
even  to  the  modified  scheme  of  necessity  that  is  presented  by  so 
cautious  and  temperate  a  speculatist  as  Mr.  Mill,  either  that  it 
is  wholly  unfounded,  a  baseless  dream,  or  that  it  must  be  carried 
out,  by  the  legitimate  and  consistent  extension  of  the  argument 
on  which  it  rests,  to  the  gigantic  system,  the  absolute  and  uni- 
versal Fate,  of  Spinoza.*     No  compromise  is  possible  with  this 

*  Having  asserted  that  "  there  is  nothing  in  causation  but  invariable,  certain^ 
and  unconditional  sequence,"  and  having  thus  got  rid  of  the  idea  of  any  q.q- 
tivG  force  or  power,  Mr.  Mill  thinks  he  has  thereby  effectually  exorcised  the 
bugbear  of  Fatalism,  which  has  so  long  obstructed  the  reception  of  the 
doctrine  of  Necessity.  He  avows  that  he  is  a  Necessarian,  but  he  stoutly 
denies  that  he  is  a  Fatalist.    Men  are  unwilling  to  admit,  he  says,  that 

10* 


114  FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL. 

doctrine ;  we  must  deny  secondary  causes  altogether,  or  we 
must  go  on  to  Asiatic  and  atheistic  fatalism.     It  is  the  boast  of 

there  is  any  "  peculiar  tie  "  between  a  man's  previously  formed  character, 
together  with  his  motives,  on  the  one  hand,  and  his  actions  on  the  other,  so 
that  the  latter  are  under  "  a  mysterious  constraint "  from  the  former.  No  ; 
a  man's  motives  do  not  compel  or  force  his  character.  There  is  no  compul- 
sion in  the  case ;  there  is  no  such  thing  as  force.  If  there  were.  Fatalism 
would  be  the  only  true  doctrine.  But  a  man's  actions  are  "  the  invariable, 
certain,  and  unconditional "  results  or  consequents  of  his  motives  and  his 
character.  The  actions  must  have  been  what  they  are,  and  must  be  repeat- 
ed, if  the  same  antecedents  should  again  occur  ;  the  man  could  not  have 
willed  otherwise  than  he  did  ;  and  under  the  same  circumstances,  the  same 
volition  would  inevitably  be  repeated.  B  invariably  follows  A,  and  always 
must  follow  it ;  yet,  so  long  as  A  does  not  compel  B  to  follow  it,  but  the 
inevitableness  of  the  sequence  arises  from  some  other  source,  —  say,  from 
the  nature  of  things,  or  from  a  logical  necessity,  —  then  the  doctrine  is  not 
one  of  Fatalism,  but  only  of  Necessity. 

Mr.  Mill  finds  great  comfort  in  this  distinction ;  but  we  must  avow  our 
opinion,  that  it  is  a  distinction  without  a  difference.  We  do  not  object  to 
tlie  Fatalist's  doctrine  so  much  on  account  of  lohat  he  asserts,  as  on  account 
of  what  he  denies.  He  asserts,  that  the  strongest  motive  constrains  the  will 
with  a  despotic  power,  so  that  the  volition  could  not  have  been  otherwise 
than  what  it  was.  This  is  bad  enough,  and  even  Mr.  Mill  does  not  agree 
with  him,  but  affirms  that  the  motive  does  not  constrain  the  will,  because 
no  one  thing  ever  constrains  or  causes  another  thing.  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  "a  peculiar  tie  or  mysterious  constraint"  in  any  case.  But  the 
Fatalist  denies  that  we  are  the  free  causes  of  our  own  actions ;  and  here, 
unfortunately,  Mr,  Mill  agrees  with  him,  and  Tor  the  same  reason  as  that 
alleged  in  the  former  instance,  namely,  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  effi- 
cient causation.  If  this  be  so,  we  are  just  as  badly  off  as  ever ;  for  remorse 
is  illusory,  and  repentance  is  vain,  if  the  action  repented  of  Avas  the  ''  inva- 
riable, certain,  and  unconditional "  consequence  of  what  preceded  it,  so  that 
it  could  not  have  been  changed  by  any  exertion  of  the  will  alone,  unaided 
by  a  change  of  circumstances. 

Conscious,  however,  that  man  needs  a  little  consolation  under  the  fearful 
doctrine  that  all  his  volitions  and  actions  are  the  inevitable  consequents  of 
circumstances  over  which  he  has  no  control,  Mr.  Mill  tries  to  administer  a 
drop  of  comfort  by  suggesting,  that,  if  a  person  wishes  to  alter  his  character, 
(that  character  being  one  of  the  antecedents  which  his  volitions  follow,) 
then  the  wish  itself  is  a  new  antecedent,  "  and  by  no  means  one  of  the  least 
influential,"  and  it  necessarily  tends  towards  its  own  fulfilment.  In  other 
words,  if  the  wish  exists  to  modify  the  character,  the  character  really  is 
"somewhat  modified  by  that  wish.    But  then,  this  wish  "  is  given  us,  not  by 


FATALISM   AND    FREEWILL.  115 

the  followers  of  Spinoza,  that  their  reasoning  is  mathematical 
and  demonstrative  from  beginning  to  end ;  all  the  forms  and 

any  efforts  of  ours,  but  by  circumstances  which  we  cannot  help ;  it  comes 
to  us  either  from  external  causes,  or  not  at  all."  "Most  true,"  responds 
our  author ;  y£t  if  circumstances  have  not  given  us  any  desire  about  the 
matter,  then  we  have  no  reason  to  be  troubled.  If  we  have  not  the  wish, 
we  cannot  complain  of  its  non-fulfilment.  In  this  case,  we  are  dumb  cattle, 
driven  forwaixi  by  an  inexorable  master.  Fate ;  but  luckily  we  are  bli/id 
cattle,  and  do  not  therefore  lament  our  destiny,  because  we  are  ignorant 
that  the  path  along  which  we  are  driven  terminates  on  a  precipice. 

We  cannot  find  much  comfort  in  this  suggestion.  In  nd  proper  sense 
are  we  masters  of  our  own  destiny,  if  the  mastersWp  is  given  or  withheld 
only  by  some  circumstance  over  which  we  have  no  control ;  and  it  is  a 
very  imperfect  mastership  at  best,  as  the  existence  of  the  wish  is  only  one 
out  of  the  many  antecedents,  independent  of  our  own  will,  which  determine 
onr  whole  conduct  A  faint  wish  would  have  little  or  no  effect  "  If  what 
we  do  depends  on  our  wishing  to  do  it,"  says  Dr.  "Wallcer,  ■"  and  our  wish- 
ing to  do  it  depends  not  on  ourselves,  then  nothing  depends  on  ourselves, 
except  to  be  the  willing  and  active  insti-uments  of  destiny."  The  most  de- 
cided Fatalist  will  readily  admit,  that  the  thoughts  and  wishes  which  come 
into  our  minds  without  any  agency  on  our  part,  and  whether  we  will  or  not, 
are  aviong  the  circumstances  which  regulate  our  actions  and  shape  our  destiny. 

In  all  other  respects,  save  the  two  qualifying  doctrines  (if  they  can  be 
called  such)  which  we  have  now  fully  considered,  Mr.  Mill  is  a  consistent 
and  rigorous  Fatalist.  He  is  too  good  a  logician  to  stop  short  of  any 
legitimate  inferences  from  his  doctrine,  and  too  bold  and  independent  a 
thinker  to  shrink  from  avowing  these  inferences,  whatever  they  may  be. 

"There  is  no  Thing  produced,  no  event  happening,  in  the  known  uni- 
verse, which  is  not  connected  by  a  uniformity,  or  invariable  sequence,  with 
some  one  or  more  of  the  phenomena  which  preceded  it ;  insomuch  that  it 
will  happen  again  as  often  as  those  phenomena  occur  again,  and  as  no 
other  phenomenon  having  the  character  of  a  counteracting  cause  shall  co- 
exist. These  antecedent  phenomena,  again,  were  connected  in  a  similar 
manner  with  some  that  preceded  them ;  and  so  on,  until  we  reach,  as  the 
ultimate  step  attainable  by  us,  either  the  properties  of  some  one  primeval 
cause,  or  the  conjunction  of  severaL 

"  The  state  of  the  whole  universe  at  any  instant  we  believe  to  be  the 
consequence  of  its  state  at  the  previous  instant ;  insomuch  that  one  who 
knew  all  the  agents  which  exist  at  the  present  moment,  their  collocation  in 
space,  and  their  properties,  —  in  other  words,  the  laws  of  their  agency,  — 
could  predict  the  whole  subsequent  history  of  the  universe,  at  least  unless 
some  new  volition  of  a  power  capable  of  controlling  the  universe  should 
supervene/'  —  Vol.  L  pp.  357,  358. 


11^  FATALISM   AND    FREEWILL. 

requisitions  of  mathematical  logic  are  complied  with  in  the  work 
of  their  master ;  the  reasoning  is  perfectly  abstract,  the  techni- 
calities of  the  geometer  and  algebraist  are  preserved,  and  no  flaw 
can  be  found  in  the  demonstration.  I  fully  admit  the  justice  of 
this  boast ;  if  you  grant  Spinoza's  premises,  there  is  no  stopping 
short  of  Spinoza's  conclusions.  Once  admit  that  efficient  causa- 
tion belongs  to  matter,  that  one  particle  really  acts  on  another 
particle  by  its  inherent  power  or  principle,  and  necessitates  a 
change  of  its  state,  and  it  follows  that  the  displacement  of  a 
grain  of  sand  must  alter  the  history  of  the  universe.  Each 
event  is  bound  by  iron  necessity  to  all  preceding  and  all  subse- 
quent events,  the  chain  of  Fate  extending  from  the  fall  of  an 
atom  up  to  the  throne  of  God.  Admit  further,  that  the  volitions 
and  acts  of  a  conscious  agent  are  events  of  the  same  order  with 
occurrences  in  the  material  universe,  having  their  antecedents 
and  consequents,  with  which  they  equally  stand  in  invariable 
relations,  and  man  himself  is  like  a  grain  of  sand,  controlled  and 
blown  about  by  the  winds  of  destiny.  Thought  and  extension, 
then,  are  attributes  of  one  infinite  substance,  both  being  mani- 
fested by  the  same  inherent  necessity,  both  being  what  they  are 
because  other  things  are  what  they  are. 

"All  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole, 
"Whose  body  Nature  is,  and  God  the  soul ;  "  — 

the  word  soul  being  here  understood  in  the  same  sense  as  inter- 
nal constitution,  or  essence,  —  as  if  we  should  say,  that  it  is  the 
nature,  or  soul,  of  iron  to  be  hard,  weighty,  and  malleable.  The 
parts  of  the  great  whole  being  thus  bound  together,  each  being 
the  result  of  all,  and  all  of  each,  it  follows,  —  to  repeat  Fichte's 
illustration,  —  that,  the  slightest  particular  being  given,  the 
course  of  a  muscle,  or  the  turn  of  a  hair,  in  a  certain  individual, 
and  if  Nature  could  answer,  she  would  be  able  to  foretell  all  his 
good  and  evil  deeds,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  his  life. 
An  inwrought  necessity  extends  through  the  whole  web  of 
events  physical  and  mental,  reaching  from  infinitude  to  infini- 
tude ;  and  this  necessity  is  God.  Nothing  acts ;  every  thing  is 
acted  upon ;  nothing  moves,  every  thing  is  moved ;  this  neces- 
sity itself,  being  the  inherent  nature  of  things,  and  not  an  ex- 


FATALISM   AND    FREEWILL.  117 

ternal  force,  operating  from  without,  is  said  only  formally  to 
compel,  or  to  act,  —  since  it  is  passive,  not  efficient.  Thus  the 
system  of  Spinoza  is  but  the  consistent  and  universal  applica- 
tion of  the  law  of  causality,  (wrongly  interpreted,  as  I  believe,) 
but  taken  absolutely,  to  all  conceivable  events;  it  is  but  the 
extension  of  this  principle,  that  every  event  must  have  a  cause. 

It  cannot  be  denied,  that  there  is  a  kind  of  awful  sublimity  in 
this  appalling  doctrine,  in  its  simplicity,  consistency,  and  uni- 
versality, which  renders  it  very  impressive  to  the  imagination, 
and  accounts,  in  a  great  degree,  for  the  favor  with  which  it  is 
received  by  many  persons  of  a  poetical  temperament.  An 
Oriental  fable,  says  Mr.  Stewart,  "  places  the  import  of  the 
doctrine  in  a  more  striking  light  than  I  could  do  by  any  philo- 
sophical comment.  The  Arabians  tell  us,  that  as  Solomon 
(whom  they  supposed  a  magician,  from  his  superior  wisdom) 
was  one  day  walking  with  a  person  in  Palestine,  his  companion 
said  to  him,  with  horror,  *  What  hideous  spectre  is  that  which 
approaches  us  ?  I  do  not  like  his  visage.  Send  me,  I  pray 
thee,  to  the  remotest  mountain  of  India.'  Solomon  complied, 
and  the  very  moment  he  was  sent  off,  the  spectre  arrived. 
*  Solomon,'  said  he,  '  how  came  that  fellow  here  ?  I  was  to 
have  fetched  him  from  the  remotest  mountain  of  India.'  Solo- 
n^on  answered,  'Angel  of  Death,  thou  wilt  find  him  there! ' " 

Spinozism  contrasted  with  the  doctrine  of  immediate  divine 
agency.  —  I  have  chosen  to  present  this  terrible  dogma  of  uni- 
versal fatalism,  for  the  first  time  fully  and  scientifically  devel- 
oped by  Spinoza,  in  immediate  juxtaposition  and  contrast  with 
that  view  of  causation  to  which  we  were  led  by  the  principles 
adopted  in  this  work;  —  with  the  doctrine,  that  is,  which  de- 
nies that  there  is  any  power  or  efficient  agency  whatever  in 
brute  matter,  even  by  transmission,  or  as  derived  from  a  higher 
source,  and  which  ascribes  all  causation  to  spirit,  or  person,  — ? 
whether  finite,  and  therefore  often  inadequate,  and  always  lim- 
ited in  its  sphere  of  action,  —  or  infinite,  and  so  necessarily  ade 
quate  to  all  occasions,  both  controlling  and  sustaining  the  uni 
verse  of  things,  from  the  fall  of  a  leaf  up  to  the  creation  of  a 
world.     The  two  doctrines  are  the  opposite  extremes  of  thia 


118  FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL. 

question  ;  they  are  the  antipodes  of  each  other.  But  I  believe 
they  are  also  the  only  logical  and  consistent  creeds  which  we 
can  entertain  upon  this  subject,  all  intermediate  views  being 
imperfect  and  inconsequent.  Begin  with  any  event  you  please 
in  the  material  univei'se,  not  immediately  connected  with  the 
agency,  real  or  supposed,  of  man,  and  but  two  suppositions  re- 
specting its  cause  are  possible.  Take,  for  instance,  the  melting 
of  wax  in  the  flame  ;  if  you  believe  that  the  flame  really  acts  on 
the  wax,  that  there  is  an  inherent  and  underived  power  in  the 
former  to  melt,  and  a  necessity  in  the  very  constitution  of  the 
latter  to  be  melted,  when  the  two  are  brought  together,  then 
you  cannot  consistently  stop  short  of  Spinozism ;  you  must  also 
believe  that  the  fall  of  a  leaf  from  a  tree  is  at  once  a  cause  and 
a  consequence  directly  connected  with  the  destruction  of  em- 
pires, and  with  the  movement  of  the  planets  round  the  sun. 
But  if  you  believe  that  the  flame  has  no  power  or  causality  of 
its  own,  —  and  all  agree  that  none  can  be  detected  in  it,  —  if 
you  admit  that  the  two  events  (namely,  the  bringing  of  the  two 
substances  together,  and  the  melting  of  one  of  them)  are  related 
to  each  other  only  as  antecedent  and  consequent  in  time,  though 
invariably  thus  related  as  far  as  our  experience  extends,  then 
all  action  is  personal,  or  begins  from  mind,  and  what  we  call 
the  course  of  nature  is  but  the  infinite  activity,  the  constant 
government,  of  God. 

Hypothetical  character  of  Spinoza's  system.  —  For  a  refuta- 
tion of  Spinoza's  system,  therefore,  we  have  only  to  recapitulate 
the  principles  that  have  already  been  advanced.  The  Jirst  ar- 
gument against  it  is,  that  it  is,  throughout,  aji  application  of 
abstract,  metaphysical  reasoning  to  matters  of  fact.  The  idea  of 
cause  is  metaphysical,  or  rather  hyperphysical,  as  it  is  nowhere 
furnished  by  external  nature,  which  gives  us  an  idea  only  of 
the  sequences  of  events ;  and  as  Spinoza  rejects  the  doctrine  of 
the  independent  personality  of  the  will,  he  could  not  derive  it 
even  from  internal  experience.  To  him,  cause  is  a  mere  ab- 
straction, denoting  invariability  in  the  succession  of  events ;  and 
to  consider  it,  therefore,  as  accounting  for  the  origin  of  these 
events  is  a  mere  assumption.     The  reasoning  begins  with  an 


FATALISM   AND    FREEWILL.  119 

abstraction  and  an  hypothesis ;  given  the  idea  of  cause,  or  ab- 
stract invariableness  of  succession,  and  supposing  that  all  events 
are  of  the  same  order,  that  is,  that  the  active  states  of  mind  do 
not  difier  from  the  passive  capacities  or  susceptibilities  of  mat- 
ter, and  certain  results  follow.  Logically,  then,  the  reasoning 
must  end  where  it  began ;  that  is,  in  an  ideal  or  hypothetical 
univ^erse,  in  which  we  may  suppose  that  this  abstraction  is  a  real- 
ity, and  this  assumption  a  fact-  In  its  application  to  real  occur- 
rences, or  the  actual  universe,  it  must  be  fallacious.  Spinoza 
uses  demonstrative  reasoning  exclusively,  and  it  has  been  proved 
that  this  can  lead  only  to  abstract  conclusions. 

Spinozism  confowtids  mind  and  matter,  —  The  second  objec- 
tion to  the  system  is,  that  it  requires  thought  and  extension  to 
be  considered  as  attributes  of  one  and  the  same  substance ;  the 
phenomena  of  mind  must  be  placed  in  the  same  order  with 
material  events,  and  thus  equally  subjected  to  the  iron  rule  of 
necessity.  But  it  has  been  proved  that  person,  or  self,  is  essen- 
tially distinct  from  matter,  as  it  is  indivisible,  and  has  the  co7i- 
sciousness  of  activity,  or  of  power  in  action ;  while  matter  is 
ijrfinitely  divisible^  and  can  only  be  noted  upon  ;  its  inertness,  or 
passive  submission  to  any  forces  that  are  applied  to  it,  having 
no  internal  force  wherewith  to  resist  them,  is  in  truth  the  only 
reason  for  believing  that  all  its  changes  of  state  are  necessary. 
We  say  that  the  movements  and  changes  of  matter  are  inevi- 
table or  necessary,  because  we  perceive  that  matter  has  no  power 
to  act  of  itself  so  that  it  must  be  operated  upon  from  without ; 
and  we  derive  this  belief  of  power  of  some  sort  as  essential  to 
action  from  the  phenomena  of  consciousness.  If  it  were  not  from 
observing,  that,  within  the  proper  domain  of  the  will,  no  act  takes 
place  unless  preceded  by  a  volition,  that  is,  by  a  consciousness 
of  effort,  we  never  could  have  arrived  at  a  knowledge  of  the 
law  of  causality,  namely,  that  every  event  must  have  somewhere 
an  efficient  cause.  Now,  it  is  the  vice  of  Spinoza's  system,  that 
it  ignores  the  idea  of  power  altogether  ;  every  thing  is  caused, 
nothing  causes  ;  every  thing  is  moved,  nothing  moves  ;  power  is 
transmitted,  as  it  were,  from  one  event  to  another,  each  one 
being  compelled  or  necessitated  by  that  which  preceded  it,  and 


120  FATALISM   AND    PREEWILl^ 

in  its  turn  compelling  its  consequent,  and  yet  this  power,  tlias 
transmitted,  and  thus  enforcing  the  law  of  necessity,  has  its 
origin  nowhere.  We  pursue  its  fleeting  shadow  through  a  se- 
ries of  events,  but  can  never  overtake  it,  for  the  series  is  infinite. 
The  powder  exploded  because  the  spark  fell  upon  it ;  the  spark 
fell,  because  the  flint  excuded  it  from  the  steel ;  the  flint  and 
steel  were  struck  together  by  the  action  of  a  man,  this  action 
being  the  result  of  a  volition,  and  this  volition  being  necessarily 
determined  by  certain  antecedent  emotions  and  bdiefs,  these 
states  of  mind  being  inevitably  consequent  on  certain  sensations^ 
and  these  again,  on  some  preceding  physical  events ;  —  and  so 
we  proceed,  tracing  the  chain  once  more  through  the  world  of 
matter,  then  perhaps  again  to  a  conscious  mind,  and  so  on  to 
infinitude.  Nature,  then,  according  to  Spinoza's  system,  is  noS 
only  infinite  in  extent,  but  eternal ;  strictly  speaking,  nothing 
ever  began  to  be,  and  creation  is  but  a  dream.  The  power,  or 
necessity,  which  now  is,  has  existed  from  eternity,  and  has 
travelled  down  to  us  through  an  infinite  geries  of  events,  never 
relaxing  its  iron  grasp,  never  varying  in  intensity  or  diminish- 
ing in  strength,  —  a  blind  and  unconscious  God. 

Power  is  not  transmitted,  hut  is  always  primitive.  —  Against 
this  terrific  and  incredible  conception,  the  'kvaynn  of  the  Greek 
tragedians,  place  the  theory  of  power,  or  causation,  which  I 
have  endeavored  here  to  develop.  Consider  power  really  as 
such,  that  is,  as  exerted  with  freedom,  —  not  as  caused,  but  as 
causing,  not  as  merely  transmitted,  but  originating  afresh  in 
every  act.  Replace  mind  as  a  distinct  existence  by  the  side  of 
matter;  restore  personality,  or  self,  as  the  most  fundamental 
and  the  most  frequently  repeated  of  all  our  conceptions ;  and 
thus  dethrone  this  blind  spectre  of  Fate,  and  replace  a  conscious 
Deity  on  the  throne  of  the  universe.  Volition  is  necessarily 
followed  by  the  act,  and  thus  we  gain  the  idea  of  the  necessary 
connection  between  cause  and  effect ;  but  that  this  act  propa- 
gates itself,  or  produces,  by  its  own  inherent  energy,  another 
event  in  the  external  universe,  is  what  we  have  no  evidence  of 
whatever,  either  by  sensible  observation,  or  in  the  world  of  con- 
sciousness.    Matter  is  essentially  inert  and  passive,  and  for  this 


FATALISM   AND   FREEWILL.  121 

reason,  among  others,  we  say  that  every  change  in  its  state'must 
have  a  cause ;  or  that  mind,  the  only  true  energy  or  source  of 
power  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  must  be  operating  on  it 
from  without  or  within.  We  do  not  find  that  agency  in  an 
antecedent  physical  event ;  and  it  is  not  true  that  one  event  is, 
at  the  same  time,  or  in  two  consecutive  instants,  both  effect  and 
cause,  or  produced  by  one  phenomenon,  and  producing  another. 
Power,  or  eflScient  agency,  is  needed  at  each  step;  and  to  find 
whence  it  comes,  we  must  look  to  mind  or  person,  that  is,  to  an 
agency  not  caused  or  necessary,  but  voluntary.  That  favorite 
metaphor,  of  a  chain  of  causes  and  effects,  when  literally  con- 
strued, has  no  meaning ;  it  is  contradictory,  for  it  affirms  and 
denies  the  existence  of  active  power  at  each  link.  y 

Motives  do  not  constrain  volitions.  —  That  mental  phenomena 
take  place  in  succession,  and  therefore,  that  each  volition  is  in- 
variably preceded  by  motives,  desires,  and  beliefs,  is  a  circum- 
stance that   need   not   perplex  our   argument.     The   relation 
between  the  motives  and  the  act  is  that  of  mere  sequence  in  time, 
not  accompanied  by  any  consciousness  of  power  exerted  ;  while 
the  relation  between  the  volition  and  the  act,  as  in  the  case  of 
forced  attention,  is  truly  causative,  the  consciousness  of  effort  or      ^ 
exertion  being  perfectly  distinct.    To  say  that  the  motive  causes    \ 
the  action,  is  to  make  the  will  inoperative  altogether,  or  non-    , 
existent.     Whatever   may  be  the  operation  of  motives,   they 
ooerate  on  the  man,  or  on  self;  whatever  may  be  the  nature  of 
the  action,  it  is  not  the  motives  which  act,  but  the  man  acts. 
We  must  not  lose  sight  of  the  absolute  indivisibihty  of  person, 
and  the  consequent  fact,  that  what  are  called  the  separate  fac- 
ulties of  mind  are  but  different  and  successive  states,  or  condi- 
tions of  being,  of  the  same  individual.     There  is  no  will,  but 
only  the  man  willing,  —  no  motive,  only  the  man  contemplating 
various  objects  of  desire.     Now,  two  successive  states  of  the 
same  substance  do  not  cause  each  other ;  we  might  as  well  say, 
that  the  heat  of  a  bar  of  iron,  when  just  withdrawn  from  the  fire, 
causes  its  subsequent  coldness  after  it  is  exposed  to  the  air.     . 
One  state  precedes  the  other,  but  does  not  causCy  or  necessitate, ' ' 
the  other. 

11 


122  FATALISM    AND    FREEWILL. 

Neither  external  nor  internal  causes  determine  the  will.  —  If  a 
lump  of  matter  changes  its  state,  if  from  a  solid,  it  becomes  a 
liquid,  or  assumes  a  new  color  or  a  new  shape,  we  look  for  the 
cause  of  this  change  to  something  existing  out  of  the  substance 
itself,  and  operating  upon  it  from. without.  We  do  so,  from  our 
intuitive  perception  of  the  fact,  that  it  is  incapable  of  acting  on 
itself,  —  or,  in  other  words,  of  changing  itself.  But  if  incapable 
of  acting  on  itself,  how  can  we  suppose  that  it  is  capable  of  act- 
ing on  something  else  ?  If  it  cannot  change  itself  but  through 
the  intervention  of  a  foreign  cause,  how  can  it  change  the  state 
of  another  substance  ?  AYe  deny,  then,  that  one  physical  event 
depends  on  another  of  a  similar  character ;  and  Fichte's  long 
chain  of  causes,  from  the  displacement  of  a  grain  of  sand  up  to 
the  creation  of  a  world,  drops  asunder  at  every  link.  In  the 
world  of  consciousness,  moreover,  since  there  is  often  no  external 
event  to  which  a  particular  change  or  determination  of  the  will 
can  be  attributed,  the  necessarian,  in  seeking  for  a  cause  of  the 
phenomenon,  is  obliged  to  look  to  an  antecedent  state  of  the  man 
himself  —  that  is,  to  a  motive,  a  preexistent  or  concomitant 
longing  or  desire.  He  thinks  to  make  out  his  theory,  then,  by 
saying,  that  the  strongest  motive  causes  the  change,  or,  in  other 
words,  determines  the  will.  But  as  the  mind  or  person  is  abso- 
lutely single,  and  only  exhibits  itself  under  different  phases,  or 
as  variously  employed,  the  motive  means  nothing  but  the  man 
himself  wishing  for  some  object ;  and  the  determination  of  the 
will  means  nothing  but  the  same  person  acting.  The  assertion, 
that  the  motive  determines  the  will,  therefore,  is  only  an  abstract 
statement  of  the  fact,  that  the  man  wishing  determines  the  man 
acting,  or  that  the  will  determines  itself,  —  which  is  precisely 
the  theory  of  the  advocate  for  human  freedom.  The  necessa- 
rian theory  is  absurd,  for  it  assigns  an  abstraction  as  the  cause 
of  a  reality. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  FREE  AGENCY.         123 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  FREE  AGENCY  CONTINUED  :  REASONING 
FROM  EFFECT  TO  CAUSE. 

Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  The  two  theories  of  causation, 
which  I  h^e  endeavored  to  develop,  terminate  respectively  in 
the  system  of  Spinoza,  which  is  atheistic  fatalism,  and  in  that  of 
freewill,  which  ascribes  all  action  to  mind  or  person,  and  there- 
fore attributes  all  changes  that  take  place  in  the  universe,  ex- 
cept those  which  are  caused  by  man,  to  the  immediate  agency 
of  the  Deity.  These  two  theories  are  the  only  ones  with  which 
we  need  concern  ourselves,  for  they  alone  are  logical,  consistent, 
and  complete.  No  compromise  is  possible  between  them. 
Take  the  doctrine  of  necessity  in  its  mildest  and  most  liberal 
form,  as  expounded  by  those  who  shrank  from  the  awful  conse- 
quences that  Spinoza  deduced  from  it,  and  it  will  not  be  difficult 
to  show  that  it  is  partial  and  inconsequent ;  the  premises  on 
which  it  rests,  as  we  might  expect  from  the  demonstrative  char- 
acter of  the  reasoning  employed,  leading  either  to  universal  con- 
clusions, or  to  no  conclusions  at  all.  Spinozism  in  itself  is  ut- 
terly incredible  and  absurd,  no  sane  man  ever  having  actually 
believed  it,  or  entertained  it  in  any  way,  except  as  a  mere  exer- 
cise of  the  intellect,  —  the  fanciful  scheme  of  a  hypothetical  uni- 
verse, in  which  abstractions  are  taken  for  realities  and  assump- 
tions for  facts. 

I  endeavored  to  show  further,  that  the  argument  in  support 
of  this  monstrous  system,  being  a  mathematical  one,  needs  to  be 
complete  and  certain  in  all  its  parts,  so  that  if  a  breach  be  any- 
where made  in  it,  the  whole  fabric  must  fall.  To  prove  the 
falsity  of  any  one  doctrine,  that  is  really  involved  in  it,  is  to  dis- 
prove the  whole  system.  Observe,  then,  at  how  many  points  it 
is  refuted  by  the  principles  which  we  have  already  established 


124  THE    ARGUMENT    FOR    FREE    AGENCY. 

by  independent  evidence.  First,  it  begins  with  the  assumption, 
that  every  physical  event  is  caused,  or  necessitated,  by  the  an- 
tecedent physical  event ;  while  it  is  now  admitted  on  all  hands, 
that  we  never  have  discovered,  and  never  can  discover,  between 
two  physical  events  any  necessary  union  whatever.  Secondly, 
the  system  requires  us  to  believe,  that  there  is  no  distinction 
between  mind  and  matter,  but  that  thought  and  extension  are 
attributes  of  the  same  substance ;  while  it  has  been  proved  that 
personality  is  essentially  distinct  from  materiality,  and  that  the 
acts  of  the  will  do  not  belong  to  the  same  class  with  changes  in 
matter,  so  that  reasoning  from  the  latter  to  the  form^  is  wholly 
fallacious ;  they  have  not  even  any  qualities  in  common. 
Thirdly,  Spinoza  denies  that  there  is  any  such  thing  as  active 
power,  and  teaches  that  every  event  is  necessarily  produced  by 
the  inherent  passivity,  so  to  speak,  of  all  objects,  there  being 
nowhere  an  agent,  a  mover,  or  a  primal  source  of  power ;  while 
it  has  been  shown,  that  in  the  phenomena  of  will,  there  is  a  con- 
sciousness of  effort  or  exertion,  which  is  a  direct  perception  oi' 
original,  and  not  of  merely  transmitted,  power.  Fourthly,  a  car- 
dinal point  hi  the  system  is  a  denial  of  the  freedom  of  the  will, 
and  the  consequent  doing  away  with  all  sense  of  moral  obliga- 
tion, all  consciousness  of  merit  or  remorse  for  crime  ;  while  the 
voice  of  conscience  imperatively  declares,  what  we  can  no  more 
disbelieve  than  we  can  distrust  the  multiplication-table  or  the 
axioms  of  the  geometer,  that  man  is  accountable  for  his  actions, 
and  incurs  merit  or  blame  for  deeds  which  he  was  free  to  commit. 
Argument  for  the  freedom  of  the  will  continued.  —  In  regard 
to  the  freedom  of  the  will,  I  argued  furthei,  what  all  experience 
teaches,  that,  of  two  successive  states  of  the  same  substance,  the 
former  is  not  the  cause  of  the  latter,  but  only  its  antecedent. 
Daylight  is  not  the  cause  of  darkness ;  a  headache  does  not 
produce  the  freedom  from  pain  which  follows  it.  The  consid 
eration  of  motives  and  the  subsequent  volition  are  two  successive 
states  of  the  same  person  ;  if  there  were  a  causal  or  necessary 
union  between  them,  the  latter  would  immediately  succeed  the 
former ;  for  when  the  cause  is  present,  the  effect  cannot  be  de- 
layed.    But  we  often  and  involuntarily  pause  and  dwell  upon 


THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  FREE  AGENCY.         125 

various  motives,  holding  them  up  in  various  lights,  and  balanc- 
ing them  against  each  other,  the  will  remaining  quiescent  during 
this  process,  the  understanding  and  reason  alone  being  active. 
Now,  if  the  strongest  motive  is  necessarily  followed  by  the  voli- 
tion, why  is  it  not  immediately  so  followed,  the  motives  being 
certainly  before  the  mind  ?  If  you  assert,  that  there  is  an  im- 
mediate determination  of  the  will  in  such  a  case,  namely,  a  de- 
termination to  remain  quiet,  or  to  postpone  the  particular  action 
in  view  till  the  motives  have  been  fully  weighed,  I  deny  the  fact. 
The  will  certainly  may  remain  dormant  for  a  time,  without  a 
particular  volition  to  that  end.  Take  the  case  of  a  man  ab- 
sorbed in  some  operation  of  pure  intellect,  —  considering,  for 
instance,  the  various  steps  of  a  mathematical  problem ;  there  is 
no  action  of  the  will  here,  not  even  a  volition  to  suspend  volition. 
But  the  balancing  of  motives  is  as  much  an  intellectual  opera- 
tion as  mathematical  research ;  why,  then,  I  repeat,  if  motives 
necessarily  act  on  the  will,  do  they  not  determine  it  immediately  ? 
I  see  not  how  it  is  possible  for  the  necessarian  to  answer  this 
question  in  conformity  with  his  theory.  *  y/ 

The  will  is  a  source  of  power,  and  is  not  an  effect.  —  But  it  is 
argued  against  the  doctrine  of  the  freedom  of  the  will,  that  it 
requires  us  to  believe  in  an  uncaused  event,  and  thus  denies  the 
universal  application  of  the  law  of  causality.  How  can  a  voli- 
tion, it  is  asked,  take  place  without  a  cause,  if  it  be  true  that 
every  change,  every  thing  which  begins  to  exist,  must  have  a 
cause  ?  I  reply,  that  the  law  of  causation  is  founded  on  the  ac- 
knowledged inertness  of  matter ;  because  matter  cannot  act  on 
itself,  we  say  that  every  change  in  matter  must  have  a  cause ; 
but  it  does  not  follow  that  this  cause  is  also  in  its  turn  an  effect, 
and  must  have  been  caused  by  some  antecedent  event,  and 
that  again  by  another  cause,  and  so  on  to  infinity.  This  notion 
of  a  chain,  or  infinite  series,  of  causes  has  already  been  refuted, 
because  it  really  banishes  all  idea  of  efficient  agency  from  the  V 
universe  ;  we  chase  the  phantom  of  a  cause  along  the  line  for 
ever,  without  the  possibility  of  overtaking  it.  The  true  maxim 
is,  that  every  physical  event,  every  matenal  phenomenon,  must 
have  a  cause,  because  it  cannot  act  of  itself ;  but  it  does  not  foU 

11* 


126         THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  FREE  AGENCY. 

low  that  this  cause  must  also  have  a  cause,  for  it  is  itself  a  source 
of  power  ;  it  is  mind,  or  person,  which,  unlike  matter,  can  act  of 
itself,  and  therefore  does  not  need  a  cause.  It  is  an  unauthor- 
ized extension  of  the  law  of  causality,  to  say  that  every  action 
of  a  conscious  agent  must  have  a  cause,  just  as  much  as  a  mate- 
rial phenomenon.  This  would  be  begging  the  question  in  the 
present  case,  and  it  is  refuted  by  the  direct  evidence  of  con- 
sciousness, which  teaches  us  that  the  will  is  a  true  source  of 
power  in  itself.  We  must  get  rid  of  this  notion  of  transmitted 
power,  or  a  chain  of  causes  and  effects,  which  is  a  mere  fiction, 
founded  on  the  interminable  succession  of  material  phenomena ; 
this  succession,  as  we  have  shown  again  and  again,  is  not  causa- 
tion, but  mere  sequence  in  time.  Each  event  in  that  succession 
must  have  a  cause ;  but  this  cause  is  not  found,  and  never  can 
be  found,  in  the  antecedent  physical  event,  but  only  in  some 
power,  or  being,  acting  out  of  the  line ;  and  to  ask  for  the  cause 
of  this  being,  that  is,  for  the  cause  of  this  power,  or  cause  of  a 
cause,  is  absurd. 

Heid's  staiement  of  the  doctrine  of  causation.  —  Thus,  the  doc- 
trine of  the  freedom  of  the  will  brings  us  back  again  to  the 
grand  dogma  of  the  immediate  agency  of  the  Deity  throughout 
creation,  that  is,  to  the  omnipresence  and  omnipotence  of  God. 
In  some  recently  published  letters,  from  the  private  correspon- 
dence of  Dr.  Reid,  I  find  a  part  of  this  theory  of  causation  so 
clearly  stated  and  illustrated,  that  a  few  passages  from  them 
may  well  be  cited  here.  "  In  the  strict  and  proper  sense,"  says 
this  philosopher,  "  I  take  an  efficient  cause  to  he  a  heing  ^ho 
had  power  to  produce  the  effect,  and  exerted  that  power  for 
that  purpose.  Power  to  produce  an  effect  supposes  power  not 
to  produce  it ;  otherwise  it  is  not  power,  but  necessity,  which  is 
incompatible  with  power  taken  in  a  strict  sense.  I  am  not  able 
to  form  a  conception  how  power,  in  the  strict  sense,  can  be  ex- 
erted without  will ;  nor  can  there  be  will  without  some  degree 
of  understanding.  Therefore,  nothing  can  he  an  efficient  cause, 
in  the  proper  sense,  hut  an  intelligerit  heing,  I  believe  we  get 
the  first  conception  of  power,  in  the  proper  sense,  from  the  con- 
sciousness  of  our  own  exertions  ;  and  as  all  our  power  is  exerted 


THE    ARGUMENT    FOR    FREE    AGENCY.  127 

by  will,  we  cannot  form  a  conception  how  power  can  be  exerted 
without  will.  Matter  cannot  be  the  cause  of  any  thing ;  it  can 
only  be  an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  a  real  cause." 

"  Suppose,  now,  that  you  take  the  word  cause  in  this  strict 
sense ;  its  relation  to  its  effect  is  so  self-evidently  different  from 
the  relation  of  a  motive  to  an  action,  that  I  am  jealous  of  a 
mathematical  demonstration  of  a  truth  so  self-evident.  Nothing 
is  more  ditficult  than  to  demonstrate  what  is  self-evident.  A 
cause  is  a  being  which  has  a  real  existence ;  a  motive  has  no 
real  existence,  and  therefore  can  have  no  active  power.  It  is  a 
thing  conceived,  and  not  a  thing  that  exists  ;  and  therefore  can 
neither  be  active,  nor  even  passive.  To  say  that  a  motive 
really  acts,  is  as  absurd  as  to  say,  that  a  motive  drinks  my 
health,  or  that  a  motive  gives  me  a  box  on  the  ear." 

"  We  are  early  conscious  of  some  power  in  ourselves  to  pro- 
duce some  events ;  and  our  nature  leads  us  to  think  that  every 
event  is  produced  by  a  power  similar  to  that  which  we  find  in 
ourselves,  —  that  is,  by  will  and  exertion  ;  when  a  weight  falls 
and  hurts  a  child,  he  is  angry  with  it,  —  he  attributes  power  and 
will  to  every  thing  that  seems  to  act.  Language  is  formed  upon 
these  early  sentiments,  and  attributes  action  and  power  to  things 
that  are  afterwards  discovered  to  have  neither  will  nor  power. 
By  this  means,  the  notion  of  action  and  causation  is  gradually 
changed  ;  what  was  essential  to  it  at  first  [namely,  will,]  is  left 
out,  while  the  name  remains ;  and  the  term  cause  is  applied  to 
things  which  we  believe  to  be  inanimate  and  passive." 

How  it  came  to  be  believed  that  matter  is  a  cause.  —  Again,  — 
"  It  is  a  curious  problem  in  human  nature,  how,  in  the  progress 
of  life,  we  come  by  the  lax  notion  of  power,  agency,  cause,  and 
effect,  and  to  ascribe  them  to  things  that  have  no  will  nor  intel- 
ligence. I  am  apt  to  think,  with  the  Abbe  Raynal,  '  that  sav- 
ages,' (I  add  children,  as  in  the  same  predicament,)  '  wherever 
they  see  motion  that  they  cannot  account  for,  there  they  suppose 
a  soul.'  Hence,  they  ascribe  active  power  and  causation  to  sun, 
moon,  and  stars,  rivers,  fountains,  sea,  air,  and  earth  ;  these  are 
conceived  to  be  causes  in  the  strict  sense.  In  tliis  period  of 
society,  language  is  formed,  and  its  fundamental  rules  and  forms 


128  THR  ARGUMENT    FOR    FREE   AGENCY. 

established.  Active  verbs  are  applied  only  to  things  that  are 
believed  to  have  power  and  activity  in  the  proper  sense.  Every 
part  of  nature  which  moves,  without  our  seeing  any  external 
cause  of  its  motion,  is  conceived  to  be  a  cause  in  the  strict  sense, 
and  therefore  is  called  so.  At  length,  the  more  acute  and  spec- 
ulative few  discover,  that  some  of  those  things  which  the  vulgar 
believe  to  be  animated  like  themselves  are  inanimate,  and  have 
neither  wall  nor  understanding ; "  but  they  must  still  "  speak 
the  common  language,  and  suit  it  to  their  new  notions  as  well  as 
they  can ;  just  as  philosophers  say  with  the  vulgar,  that  the  sun 
rises  and  sets,  and  the  moon  changes." 

Metaphysical  reasoning  not  needed  to  prove  the  being  of  a 
God.  —  With  these  quotations  from  Dr.  Reid,  I  conclude  the 
more  abstract  portion  of  the  discussion  in  which  we  are  engaged. 
To  some  it  may  appear,  that  we  have  been  wandering  a  long 
time  in  a  mere  wilderness  of  logic  and  metaphysics,  "  whence 
issuing,  we  again  behold  the  stars."  I  certainly  do  not  believe 
that  it  is  necessary  to  pass  through  all  the  abstruse  reasoning, 
which  has  thus  far  occupied  our  attention,  before  we  can  obtain 
any  firm  and  well-grounded  faith  in  the  great  doctrines  of  relig- 
ion. It  would  be  an  impeachment  of  the  goodness  of  the 
Deity  to  suppose,  that  he  has  given  to  his  creatures  only  such 
intimations  or  proofs  of  his  own  existence  and  his  will  as  the 
most  cultivated  and  ingenious  minds  can  follow  slowly  and  with 
great  effort.  On  the  contrary,  the  conclusions  in  this  great 
argument  are  so  obvious  and  direct,  lying  but  a  step  from  the 
premises,  which  are  numberless,  and  so  nearly  akin  to  the 
mental  processes  which  we  are  compelled  to  use  for  the  daily 
purposes  of  life,  that  the  child  or  the  savage  cannot  avoid  rest- 
ing in  them  with  sufficient  confidence.  It  is  no  doubtful  infer- 
ence, no  long  and  tedious  process  of  reasoning,  which  connects 
all  events  in  the  history  of  the  universe  with  the  being  and 
attributes  of  a  God.  The  conclusion  is  so  obvious,  the  connec- 
tion so  close  and  striking,  that  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  any 
mind  not  wilfully  obtuse,  or  not  perverted  by  logical  subtilities 
and  metaphysical  abstractions,  ever  failed  to  receive  it  with 
perfect  trust  at  the  first  view. 


THE  ARGUMENT  FOR  FREE  AGENCY.         129 

How  far  metajihysiccd  reasoning  is  useful.  —  But  the  impor- 
tance of  these  preliminary  considerations  appears  from  the  fact, 
that  they  afford  a  complete  answer  to  the  objections  urged  by 
"^skeptics  ^  so  formidable  as  Spinoza,  Hume,  Kant,  and  the  later 
school  of  German  infidels.  Those  who  are  not  conversant  with 
the  objections  may  safely  pass  over  the  answers  to  them ;  but 
to  many  others,  they  may  be  of  use  from  their  tendency  to  do 
away  with  an  impression,  —  now,  it  is  to  be  feared,  quite  too 
common,  —  that  the  common  proofs  of  the  being  of  a  God,  how- 
ever satisfactory  to  the  vulgar,  will  not  bear  the  test  of  a  sound 
philosophy  or  of  strict  logical  analysis.  They  tend,  at  any  rate, 
to  clear  the  ground,  to  estabHsh  certain  data^  or  sound  premises 
for  the  argument,  and  to  furnish  logical  rules  for  the  conduct 
of  the  inquiry.  Let  us  hold  fast,  then,  to  the  ground  which  we 
have  acquired,  and  having  established  certain  principles,  let  us 
use  them  without  doubt  or  hesitation  for  the  remainder  of  the 
discussion.  Let  no  one  imagine,  for  instance,  that  reasoning 
from  the  effect  to  the  cause,  as  we  shall  have  occasion  to  do,  is 
illogical,  because  Hume  and  others  have  demonstrated  that  phys- 
ical causes,  so  called,  are  mere  antecedents,  and  that  no  power, 
or  efficient  energy,  can  be  detected  in  them.  All  this  is  admit- 
ted ;  but  the  only  consequence  of  it  is,  not  to  banish  the  notion 
of  cause  altogether,  but  to  substitute  for  material  causes  and 
transmitted  power  the  idea  of  direct  personal  agency,  accompa- 
nied by  intelligence  and  will.  Neither  let  the  grim  dogma  of 
necessity,  or  absolute  fate,  any  longer  shadow  the  faith  of  the 
believer  with  the  fear,  lest  the  commands  of  the  Almighty 
should  be  nugatory  from  his  own  moral  inability  to  comply 
with  them.  The  doctrine  of  freewill  rests  upon  foundations 
which  are  not  to  be  shaken  by  the  utmost  force  of  philosophical 
skepticism. 

Above  all,  let  us  know  what  we  are  to  expect  as  the  result 
of  the  inquiry,  and  what  weight  is  to  be  given  to  the  disparag- 
ing remark,  that  truths  supported  only  by  moral  evidence  are 
at  best  but  contingent,  and  that  demonstration  of  a  fact  is  im- 
possible. The  evidence  which  supports  the  fundamental  truths 
of  religion  is  precisely  the  same  with  that  which  directs  all  our 


130  REASONING    FROM    EFFECT    TO    CAUSE. 

conduct  in  life,  and,  in  ordinary  cases,  no  one  thinks  of  com- 
plaining that  it  is  insufficient.  To  say  that  it  is  moral,  instead 
of  being  demonstrative,  is  only  to  admit  that  the  truths  them- 
selves are  practical,  and  not  speculative.  I  repeat  it  then,  there 
can  be  no  fears  for  the  strength  of  our  religious  faith,  if  it  stands 
upon  the  same  platform  with  the  whole  round  of  the  physical 
sciences,  so  that  no  assault  can  reach  even  its  outworks,  till  the 
entire  fabric  of  these  sciences  shall  be  demolished,  and  it  be 
made  to  appear  that  all  the  boasted  attainments  of  the  last 
three  centuries  in  the  study  of  nature  have  been  unprofitable 
and  vain. 

Analysis  of  the  common  argument  a  posteriori.  —  The  common 
argument  a  posteriori  for  the  being  of  a  God  is  divided  into  two 
branches,  according  as  we  seek  to  establish  the  reality  of  some 
cause,  no  matter  what,  simply  from  the  presence  of  an  effect,  or 
as  we  endeavor  to  determine  the  nature  of  that  cause  from  the 
peculiarities  of  the  effect ;  the  one  is  reasoning  from  efficient, 
the  other  from  final,  causation.  The  one  proceeds  simply  from 
nature  up  to  nature's  God,  as  from  a  fact  otherwise  inexplicable 
to  that  which  is  at  once  the  origin  and  the  explanation  of  that 
fact ;  the  other  infers,  from  the  peculiar  character  of  the  works 
of  creation,  that  a  purpose  or  design  is  accomplished  in  them, 
and  consequently  assumes  that  this  design  must  have  been  pre- 
viously entertained  by  an  intelligent  being,  having  power  ade- 
quate to  the  work.  Thus,  the  geologist  infers,  from  the  dislo- 
cated and  upheaved  position  of  certain  strata  of  rock,  that  there 
must  have  been  some  cause  of  the  disturbance  and  elevation ; 
this  is  his  first  conclusion,  and  it  is  quite  distinct  from  his  sub- 
sequent inquiry,  as  to  the  time,  nature,  and  extent  of  the  convul- 
sion which  produced  the  phenomena  that  he  now  seeks  to  ex- 
plain. This  later  inquiry  must  proceed  from  careful  observa- 
tion of  the  particular  facts  in  the  case,  of  the  minor  circum- 
stances which  go  to  prove  that  the  grand  change  was  produced 
by  one  cause  rather  than  another.  It  is  the  former  and  more 
comprehensive  conclusion,  the  validity  of  which  we  are  now  to 
examine. 

Criticism   of  Dr.    Clarke's   argument,  —  The   argument   is 


REASONING   FROM   EFFECT    TO    CAUSE.  131 

stated  in  its  simplest,  but  not,  as  it  seems  to  me,  in  its  most  log 
ical  or  conclusive  form,  by  Dr.  Clarke.  He  reasons  thus : 
"  Something  must  have  existed  from  all  eternity,  —  otherwise, 
the  things  that  now  are  must  have  been  produced  out  of  nothing, 
absolutely  and  without  cause,  which  is  a  plain  contradiction  in 
terAis.  For  to  say  a  thing  is  produced,  and  yet  that  there  is  no 
cause  at  all  of  that  production,  is  to  say  that  something  is  effected 
ly  nothing,  —  that  is,  it  is  not  effected  at  alV  I  pause  here  to 
remark,  that  Dr.  Clarke,  in  his  anxiety  to  make  his  reasoning 
exclusively  metaphysical,  and  consequently  to  avoid  all  refer- 
ence to  matters-of-fact,  makes  two  unfounded  assumptions :  — 
first,  that  we  have  a  metaphysical  knowledge  of  "  the  things 
that  now  are,"  —  a  loose  and  indeterminate  expression,  which 
means,  if  it  means  any  thing,  the  universe  of  animate  and  inan- 
imate being,  though  the  existence  of  this  universe  is  certainly 
made  known  to  us  only  by  physical  evidence,  —  that  is,  by  ex- 
perience, whether  by  observation  through  the  senses,  or  by  con- 
sciousness ;  —  and  secondly,  his  assertion,  that  "  otherwise  the 
things  that  now  are  must  have  been  produced  out  of  nothing," 
must  be  understood  to  mean,  that  the  things  which  now  are  must 
have  hegun  to  he  without  an  antecedent  cause ;  inasmuch  as  to 
say  that  they  were  produced,  is  begging  the  question  as  to  their 
producer.  The  reasoning  is  worth  nothing,  unless  it  is  sup- 
ported by  the  general  law  of  causality,  —  the  law,  that  is,  that 
every  thing  which  begins  to  be  must  have  a  cause ;  —  and  this 
law,  for  reasons  already  alleged,  must  be  considered  as  the  dic- 
tate of  experience.  Of  course,  Clarke's  argument  is  of  a  meta- 
physical or  a  priori  character  only  in  name  ;  it  is  just  as  much 
founded  on  physical  testimony  as  the  argument  from  design. 
It  proceeds  from  the  existence  of  realities,  made  known  to  us 
by  the  senses  and  by  consciousness,  to  the  cause  of  these  reali- 
ties, the  ground  of  the  inference  being  a  general  maxim,  the 
truth  of  which  is  collected  from  experience.* 

*  Dr.  Clarke  has  proposed  another  argument,  which  is  more  metaphys- 
ical, and  therefore  less  conclusive,  than  the  one  considered  above.  This 
second  form  of  proof,  briefly  stated,  is  as  follows. 

"  Space  and  time  are  alike  infinite  and  necessary,  for  we  cannot  even 


132  REASONING    FROM    EFFECT   TO    CAUSE. 

Still,  the  argument  thus  far,  whatever  may  be  its  technical 
designation,  is  a  valid  one,  and  is  in  truth  unanswerable.  From 
the  universe  of  things  that  are,  we  infer,  either  that  these  things 
have  existed  for  ever,  or  that  they  began  to  be ;  and  if  the  latter, 
then  there  must  have  been  a  cause  of  their  beginning  of  exist- 
ence ;  and  this  cause  must  either  have  existed  from  eternity,  or 
else  it  also  had  a  cause,  —  and  so  on.  Hence  we  are  reduced 
to  the  alternative  of  admitting  the  existence,  either  of  one  eter- 
nal being,  or  of  an  infinite  series  of  dependent  beings,  each  one 
having  be^n  produced  by  its  predecessor.  So  far,  the  argument 
is  sound ;  but  Clarke  proceeds  to  urge  several  metaphysical 
reasons,  which  seem  to  me  quite  unsatisfactory  from  the  very 

conceive  of  their  limitation  or  their  non-existence.  They  are  not  in  them 
selves  substances,  but  attributes,  and  as  such,  necessarily  presuppose  a  sub 
stance,  without  which  they  could  not  exist ;  and  this  substance  is,  conse- 
quently, infinite  and  self-existent." 

But  the  word  substance,  as  here  used,  is  entirely  indefinite ;  the  idea 
of  it  includes  neither  personality  nor  intelligence.  The  argument,  at  the 
utmost,  proves  only  that  something  exists,  to  which  these  attributes  belong  ; 
and  this  something,  Clarke  immediately  assumes  to  be  a  particular  Being. 
The  sophism  consists  in  this  illogical  transition  from  the  general  to  the 
particular,  from  the  abstract  to  the  concrete  ;  and  a  more  palpable  one  can 
hardly  be  imagined. 

Besides,  the  proposition  that  space  and  time  are  attributes,  if  not  wholly 
unintelligible,  must  be  understood  in  the  same  sense  as  the  proposition, 
that  human  beings  exist  in  space  and  time.  Finite  space  and  time  are 
qualities  of  man,  in  the  same  way  that  eternity  and  immensity  are  attri- 
butes of  the  Supreme  Being.  Now,  human  beings  are  not  necessary  or 
self-existent.  And  if  finite  space  and  time  do  not  necessitate  a  finite  sub- 
stance, so  neither  do  the  ideas  of  immensity  and  eternity  compel  us  to  be- 
lieve in  an  infinite  substance. 

The  whole  argument  rests  on  an  abuse  of  language.  Time  and  space 
are  not  attiibutes,  but  conditions  of  being .  We  cannot  conceive  of  any  thing 
except  as  existent  under  these  conditions  ;  but  we  may  conceive  that  the 
conditions  are  fulfilled,  while  the  reality  is  wanting.  Atmospheric  air,  for 
instance,  is  a  condition  of  man's  bodily  existence  ;  he  cannot  live  without 
it.  But  air  may  be,  as  at  the  North  Pole,  where  man  is  not.  In  Clarke's 
argument,  the  prerequisite  is  made  to  change  places  with  the  reality,  or  the 
thing  conditioned.  He  infers  the  presence  of  the  thing,  from  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  conditions,  which  is  precisely  inverting  the  two  terms  of  the 
only  legitimate  inference. 


REASONING   FROM   EFFECT   TO    CAUSE.  13^ 

fact  that  they  are  metaphysical,  for  rejecting  the  hypothesis  of 
an  infinite  series  of  created  beings,  and  hence  for  resting  in  the 
conclusion  that  there  is  but  one  eternal  being,  who  is  God. 
The  truth  is,  Clarke  quite  confounds  two  perfectly  distinct  mean- 
ings of  the  term  necessity  ;  and  on  this  fallacy,  this  confusion  of 
terms,  the  whole  of  his  subsequent  reasoning  depends.  In  a 
syllogism,  the  conclusion  necessarily  follows  from  the  premises ; 
and  this  we  call  a  logical  necessity.  For  an  instance  of  the 
other  kind,  take  the  necessary  and  unlimited  existence  of  space. 
Space  is  indestructible  ;  we  can  conceive  of  the  annihilation  of 
matter,  but  not  of  the  space  which  matter  now  occupies.  Im- 
agine, if  you  can,  the  destruction  of  the  room  or  space  which 
this  building  now  occuj)ies.  You  can  conceive  easily  enough  of 
the  annihilation  of  all  objects  within  it  —  that  this  space  should 
be  made  empty  or  void ;  but  you  cannot  conceive  of  the  space 
itself  as  annihilated,  or  as  no  longer  affording  room  for  other 
objects.  Now  this  necessary  existence  of  space  we  may  call,  for 
want  of  a  better  term,  a  physical  necessity.  Clarke  quite  con- 
founds these  two  significations  of  the  word ;  having  shown  by 
argument  which  he  holds  to  be  demonstrative,  that  God  7nust 
exist,  that  is,  that  there  is  a  logical  necessity  for  our  believing  in 
his  existence,  he  goes  on  to  reason  as  if  he  had  established  a 
physical  necessity  of  the  being  of  a  God ;  that  is,  he  thought  to 
prove  that  we  can  no  more  conceive  of  his  non-existence,  than 
we  can  of  the  non-existence  of  space  or  time.  If  this  were  so, 
atheisin  were  impossible^  and  then  it  would  be  difficult  to  tell  why 
any  argument  was  needed,  or  why  Clarke  thought  it  necessary 
to  write  his  book,  if  there  was  nobody  to  be  convinced  by  it. 
As  to  the  possibility  of  atheism,  if  a  man  can  be  so  far  blinded 
by  metaphysical  subtilties  as  to  doubt  his  own  existence,  I  do 
not  see  why  he  cannot  go  on  to  deny  the  being  of  a  God. 

TJie  universe  tnust  have  had  a  cause,  —  But  it  was  not  my 
object  to  show  that  the  reasoning  of  Clarke  is  fallacious,  but  only 
to  select  that  portion  of  it  which  is  open  to  no  cavil  or  objection, 
and  from  this,  if  possible,  to  proceed  to  a  satisfactory  conclusion. 
Let  us  go  back,  then,  to  the  proposition,  sufficiently  established 
by  him,  that  we  must  believe  either  in  one  eternal  being^  or  in  an 

12 


134  REASONING   FROM    EFFECT   TO    CAUSli. 

infinite  series  of  created  beings.  Are  there  sufficient  reasons  for 
rejecting  the  latter  branch  of  this  ahernative  ?  Metaphysical 
reasons  for  rejecting  it  I  cannot  find ;  I  frankly  admit,  that  the 
bare  conception  of  such  an  infinite  series  is  no  more  impossible 
in  this  argument  than  it  is,  for  instance,  in  mathematics,  where 
the  mere  tyro  will  present  to  you  the  law  and  the  sum  of  such  a 
series  without  difficulty  or  hesitation.  The  presence  of  it  is  no 
more  perplexing  to  him  in  the  calculation,  than  is  that  of  the 
expression  for  the  root  of  a  number  which  is  not  a  perfect  square 
or  other  power.  But  in  mathematics,  as  in  natural  theology, 
the  infinite  series  is  possible  as  an  abstraction,  hut  not  as  a 
reality.  There  are  physical  considerations,  so  to  speak,  which 
are  conclusive  against  the  hypothesis  that  this  vast  machine  of 
the  universe,  even  on  the  supposition  that  it  is  continually  prop- 
agating and  renewing  itself  by  the  laws  now  in  force  considered 
as  real  causes,  had  no  beginning,  but  has  existed  from  all  eter- 
liity  in  an  infinite  series  of  changes,  decay,  and  restoration.  I 
speak  now  of  the  universe,  not  as  a  mere  aggregation  of  hrute 
matter,  which  it  is  not,  hut  as  a  vast  and  complex  organis7n,  all 
the  parts  of  which  are  in  constant  and  harmonious  activity,  and 
tenanted  by  various  orders  of  life,  each  of  which  is  continued  in 
one  direct  line,  and,  so  far  as  human  observation  has  extended, 
under  a  permanent  type.  It  would  not  be  difficult,  I  beUeve,  to 
establish  this  proposition  in  reference  to  the  whole  system  of 
worlds,  the  solar  and  starry  kingdoms,  of  which  our  earth  is  but 
so  small  a  part.  But  we  know  so  little  of  these,  beyond  the 
general  facts  that  they  exist,  and  move,  or  are  moved,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  law  of  gravitation,  that  an  argument  either  for  or 
against  their  eternal  existence  in  their  present  form,  and  under 
their  present  laws,  would  have  too  much  the  aspect  of  an  appeal 
to  human  ignorance.  We  could  only  say,  either  on  the  affirma- 
tive or  the  negative  side,  that  it  might  be  so  for  aught  that  we 
knew  to  the  contrary  j  —  a  conclusion  unsatisfactory  in  itself, 
likely  to  be  overthrown  by  the  progress  of  discovery,  and  almost 
sure  to  be  disproved  by  that  knowledge  which  we  may  conceive 
a  superior  spirit  to  possess,  both  of  their  external  and  internal 
economy. 


REASONING   FROM   EFFECT    TO    CAUSE.  135 

For  a  similar,  but  still  stronger  reason,  I  put  aside  here  the 
question  as  to  the  eternal  existence  of  inorganic  matter^  which  is, 
at  best,  but  the  brute  material  out  of  which  worlds  are  fashioned. 
Whether  this  exists  at  all,  according  to  the  ordinary  conception 
of  it,  is  doubtful ;  and  it  is  certain  that  we  have  no  knowledge 
of  it,  that  we  cannot  perceive  it,  that  we  cannot  distinguish  be- 
tween the  qualities  properly  belonging  to  it  in  itself,  and  those 
imposed  upon  it  either  by  our  own  faculties  of  observation,  or 
by  an  external  power. 

Physical  proof  that  the  world  did  begin  to  be.  —  I  confine  the 
inquiry,  then,  to  the  past  duration  of  the  only  world  with  which 
we  have  any  immediate  concern,  to  the  antecedent  history  of 
this  earth,  to  the  assumed  continuance,  through  the  endless  ages', 
that  are  past,  of  the  various  lines  and  races  of  animate  and  organic 
being,  upheld  only  by  the  inherent  energy  of  the  laws,  so  called, 
which  support  or  direct  their  present  existence.  Have  we 
proof  or  disproof  of  infinite  series  here  ?  I  contend  that  we 
have  testimony,  clear,  unquestioned,  scientific,  admitted  by  all 
physical  inquirers  who  have  any  acquaintance  with  the  subject, 
even  by  those  most  prejudiced  against  the  conclusions  which  I 
wish  to  establish,  that  organization  and  life  on  this  earthy  through 
all  their  myriad  forms,  throughout  the  vegetable  and  animal  — 
aye,  even  the  mineral  —  kingdoms,  did  begin  to  be,  and  that 
within  definite  periods  of  time.  We  even  pronounce  with  cer- 
tainty on  their  relative  ages,  and  map  out  chronologically  the 
history  of  the  world,  from  chaos  down  to  the  time  when  man, 
the  last  comer,  was  introduced  upon  a  scene  which  was,  by 
comparison  with  those  which  had  preceded  it,  one  of  perfect 
symmetry  and  order.  Geology  declares  without  hesitation,  and 
with  as  much  distinctness  as  Holy  Writ,  that  time  was  when  the 
earth  icas  without  form  and  void,  and  before  the  dry  land  ap- 
peared. Thence  it  traces  down  the  annals  of  things:  —  first, 
the  successive  induction  of  those  circumstances  which  rendered 
even  the  lowest  forms  of  life  possible ;  then  the  creation  of  those 
low  forms ;  their  subsequent  utter  extinction,  so  that  they  have 
no  representatives  among  us  at  the  present  day ;  the  filHng 
of  their  place  by  higher  orders  of  being;  and  so  on,  through 


136  REASONING    FROM    EFFECT    TO    CAUSE. 

successive  transformations  of  life,  down  to  the  appearance  ot 
man. 

I  am  not  dwelling  now  on  any  of  the  more  obscure  and  dis- 
puted doctrines  of  geological  science.  I  am  not  resting  tliia 
great  argument  on  any  of  the  theories,  often  contradictory,  or 
very  questionable,  respecting  the  particular  circumstances  under 
which  certain  strata  of  rocks  were  raised  from  the  bottom  of  an 
ocean,  or  certain  mountains  upheaved  from  the  plain.  All  that 
is  needed  for  the  purposes  of  the  present  discussion  may  be 
found  in  those  first  principles  and  elementary  facts  of  geology, 
which  are  now  universally  admitted,  and  which,  indeed,  cannot 
be  denied  without  impeaching  the  trustworthy  character  of  the 
evidence  on  which  all  physical  science  depends.  Your  own 
eyes  have  probably  seen  the  fossil  forms  of  those  extinct  races 
which  once  peopled  the  earth  that  is  now  our  home.  You  have 
heard  or  read  the  history  of  these  lost  tribes,  and  various  specu- 
lations about  the  catastrophes  or  gradual  changes  which  swept 
them  away,  and  the  new  forms  of  life  which  succeeded  them. 
You  have  seen  the  marks  of  igneous  formation  or  alluvial  de- 
posit in  the  very  stones  on  which  you  daily  tread,  and  have  had 
your  thoughts  thus  carried  back  by  necessary  inference  to  periods 
when  the  first  continents  were  raised  from  the  bosom  of  the  deep, 
when  mountains  of  ice  floated  over  what  are  now  fertile  tracts 
peopled  by  myriad  forms  of  terrestrial  life,  or  when  the  incan- 
descent surface  of  the  earth  still  glowed  with  the  heat  which 
even  now  rages  but  a  few  miles  below  its  outer  rind.  Then 
occurs  to  us,  with  a  more  impressive  significance,  the  awful 
question  which  the  Hebrew  poet  seemed  to  hear,  as  coming  out 
of  the  whirlwind :  —  "  Where  wast  thou,  w^hen  I  laid  the  founda- 
tions of  the  earth  ?     Declare,  if  thou  hast  understanding." 

I  say,  then,  that  the  past  continuaiice,  through  an  injiniie 
series  of  years,  of  that  order  of  things  which  we  now  hehold,  under 
laws  similar  to  those  which  now  direct  or  express  that  order,  is 
disproved  by  an  amount  of  physical  testimony  that  is  absolutely 
conclusive.  Ignorance  may  deny  this  proposition,  but  the  in- 
structed skeptic  must  admit  it.  Remember  that  the  point  we 
are  now  seeking  to  establish  is  a  fact,  and  that  I  am  arguing  it 


REASONING    FROM    EFFECT    TO    CAUSE.  137 

by  an  appeal  to  facts.  You  can  judge  whether  the  conviction 
produced  by  the  mass  of  evidence,  to  which  I  have  merely 
alluded,  would  be,  to  any  appreciable  extent,  either  confirmed  or 
shaken  by  a  metaphysical  discussion  of  the  abstract  possibility 
of  an  infinite  series  of  dependent  beings. 

Application  of  the  argument  from  effect  to  cause.  —  We  have, 
then,  the  starting  point  for  the  application  of  the  argument  from 
the  effect  to  the  cause.  Certain  things  began  to  he.  At  a  cer- 
tain period,  which  is  not  even  a  very  remote  one,  when  consid- 
ered in  that  gigantic  chronology  w^hich  geological  science  obliges 
us  to  contemplate,  all  the  present  races  of  living  things,  all  or- 
ganized forms  that  we  now  behold,  were  not.  There  was  no 
firm-set  earth  on  which  they  could  tread,  there  were  no  articles 
for  their  aliment  and  sustenance,  there  was  no  atmosphere  which 
they  could  breathe.  They  have  subsequently  come  into  exist- 
ence. Whence  came  they  ?  I  choose  to  put  the  question  in  this, 
its  simplest,  form,  in  order  not  to  perplex  you  with  any  further 
discussion,  here  unnecessary,  of  the  law  of  causality.  It  is  not 
enough  to  say,  that  you  cannot  believe,  —  you  cannot  even  imag- 
ine, that  this  earth,  once  without  one  germ  of  organic  life  in  its 
vast  bosom,  suddenly  became  tenanted  with  countless  forms  of  liv- 
ing beings,  without  some  foreign  and  adequate  cause.  Give  the 
largest  significance  you  may  to  what  are  called  the  laws  of  na- 
ture ;  confound,  if  you  will,  physical  with  efficient  causes ;  say 
that  the  birth  of  an  individual  in  the  race  is  but  the  mechanical 
effect  of  the  powers  inherent  in  the  organism  of  the  parent ;  — 
still  the  beginning  of  that  race,  the  beginning  of  all  races,  goes 
utterly  beyond  the  laws  of  nature,  and  obliges  you  to  look  up  to 
nature's  God. 

The  laws  of  nature  do  not  account  for  the  introduction  of  a 
new  species.  —  The  skeptic's  first  principle  is,  that  we  must  not 
admit  any  laws  of  nature,  or  modes  of  action,  but  those  which  we 
now  actually  perceive  going  on  around  us  ;  we  must  not  invent 
causes  to  account  for  certain  phenomena,  until  we  are  fully  satis- 
fied that  the  known  and  familiar  agencies  of  nature  are  insuffi- 
cient to  that  end.  I  take  him  at  his  word.  Tlie  physical  laws 
which  are  now  exposed  to  the  observation  of  mankind  will  not 

12* 


138  REASONING    FROM    EFFECT   TO    CAUSE. 

explain  the  introduction  of  a  neiv  species,  a  neio  race,  among 
those  formerly  in  being,  and  certainly  not  the  beginnmg  of  life 
itself  in  a  world  till  then  inanimate.  If  you  say  that  the  lower 
forms  of  life  may  be  spontaneously  generated  from  the  dust,* 
or  that  higher  types  of  being  may  be  evolved  from  those  next 
below  them  in  the  scale,  without  the  exertion  of  any  new  power, 
you  assert  what  the  most  careful  observation,  the  minute  and 
long  continued  researches  of  science,  have  failed  to  verify. 
Permanence  of  type  is  one  of  the  most  firmly  established  of  those 
very  laws  of  nature  to  which  you  ascribe  inherent  power,  and 
which  you  claim  to  be  immutable.     It  is  the  grossest  incon- 


*  All  the  races  of  animated  beings,  which  arc  entirely  within  the  range 
of  otir  powers  of  observation,  —  which  have  such  a  size  and  locality  that 
we  can  study  and  accurately  determine  their  organization  and  habits,  — 
are  unquestionably  produced  from  parents  of  their  own  kind.  Only  the 
minute  microscopic  animals  are  now  supposed  to  be  generated  spontane- 
ously ;  and  this  alleged  fact  rests  not  on  direct  proof,  but  only  on  our  in 
ability  in  certain  cases  to  trace  the  process  of  their  production  in  the  ordi- 
nary way.  As  many  of  these  animals,  in  their  perfect  state,  ai-e  not  more 
than  the  twelve  thousandth  part  of  an  inch  in  diameter,  it  is  not  much  to 
be  wondered  at,  that  we  should  not  be  able  in  all  cases  to  discover  their 
ova,  or  to  follow  these  ova  through  all  their  stages  of  development  into  the 
complete  being.  It  is  further  remarkable,  that  these  animalcules,  when 
once  produced,  whether  by  spontaneous  or  natural  generation,  are  all  found 
to  be  provided  with  the  organs  or  requisite  means  for  continuing  their 
species,  and,  in  fact,  for  multiplying  their  number  from  themselves  with 
astonishing  rapidity.  As  they  certainly  have  children,  it  seems  reasonable 
to  suppose,  according  to  the  analogy  of  all  the  higher  animated  tribes,  that 
they  also  had  parents.  The  ancients  supposed,  that  the  worms  and  insects 
which  appear  in  decaying  organic  matter  were  generated  there  by  the  de- 
composition of  the  substance,  without  the  previous  agency  of  individuals 
of  the  same  stock.  Every  schoolboy  is  acquainted  with  Virgil's  mode  of 
obtaining  a  new  swarm  of  bees  from  the  decaying  carcass  of  a  heifer 
Subsequent  researches,  made  with  more  care,  and  perhaps,  with  better  in- 
struments of  observation,  have  entirely  disproved  the  hypothesis,  and  show 
that  the  maggots  were  produced  in  every  case  from  eggs  deposited  by  flies 
or  other  insects,  and  were  afterwards  themselves  developed  into  the  state 
of  perfect  insects.  Then  it  seems  reasonable  to  believe,  that  the  improved 
observations  of  future  times  will  clear  up  the  only  remaining  difficulty, 
and  show  how  the  infusory  animalcules  also  are  generated  from  beings  of 
their  own  kind. 


REASONING    FROM   EFFECT    TO    CAUSE.  139 

sistency  on  your  part  to  attempt  to  set  aside,  in  this  single  case, 
those  very  principles,  on  the  assumed  unchangeableness,  the 
inherent  power,  and  infinite  duration  of  which,  your  whole  theory 
depends.  In  that  ordinary  course  of  nature,  io  which  you  would 
fain  reduce  all  phenomena,  so  that  all  may  seem  to  be  mere 
continuance,  and  nowhere  may  appear  a  beginning  of  existence, 
so  as  to  avoid  any  necessity  for  the  interposition  of  any  new 
cause  or  foreign  power,  —  in  this  ordinary  course  of  nature,  I 
say,  quadrupeds  are  not  born  from  birds,  nor  birds  from  reptiles, 
nor  reptiles  from  fishes,  nor  fishes  from  invertebrate  animals ;  * 

*  The  point  chiefly  relied  upon  to  show  the  credibility  of  this  doctrine 
here  alluded  to  is  the  fact,  that  the  higher  animals,  in  their  cmbryotic  ex- 
istence, pass  through  a  series  of  changes  resembling  the  permanent  forms 
of  the  lower  tribes.  The  first  form  of  man  himself  resembles  that  which  is 
permanent  in  the  animalcule  ;  and  thence  he  comes  to  resemble  succes- 
sively a  fish,  a  reptile,  a  bird,  and  the  lower  mammifers,  before  he  attains 
his  specific  maturity.  It  is  held,  then,  that  a  premature  birth  from  an  ani- 
mal of  a  higher  kind  might  have  instituted  a  new  race  of  a  lower  type  ; 
and  that  a  birth  unusually  delay-ed,  permitting  an  embryo  to  be  still  further 
advanced  in  the  line  of  organization,  might  have  created  a  new  species  of 
a  higher  order  than  the  parent.  Here,  every  thing  depends  on  the  absolute 
identity  of  the  germs  of  all  animals,  in  the  lower  stages  of  their  growth. 
General  resemblances  and  analogies  ai-e  of  no  weight  whatever ;  the  essen- 
tial internal  organization  of  the  ova  of  different  species  must  be  the  same  ; 
otherwise,  however  ripened  into  a  mature  being,  whether  the  birth  be  ad- 
vanced or  postponed,  the  individual  must  still  belong  to  its  parents'  spe- 
cies, of  which  it  possesses  the  distinctive  peculiarity.  Now,  this  point  of 
the  ideiititif  of  germs  is  a  mere  assumption ;  not  only  is  it  destitute  of  proof,  — 
the  whole  evidence  is  against  it.  There  is  a  degree  of  outward  resem- 
blance, but  there  is  no  sameness.  When  we  trace  the  origin  of  life  back 
to  the  remotest  point  to  which  our  powers  of  observation  extend,  when  we 
come  to  microscopic  vesicles  that  can  be  discerned  only  by  the  highest 
magnifiers,  general  similarity  of  outward  shape  is  all  that  can  be  predi- 
cated of  them.  The  specific  differences  lie  below  this  general  resemblance 
of  outward  form ;  we  cannot  discera  them,  but  we  knmo  that  they  must 
exist,  and  that  they  are  essential  differences  ;  for  each  one  of  these  vesicles 
is  invariably  developed,  if  at  all,  into  an  individual  of  the  species  to  which 
its  parenj  belongs.  The  germinal  vesicles  of  a  tree  and  a  quadruped  are 
somewhat  alike,  outwardly ;  so,  to  the  hen's  eyes,  there  is  no  difference 
between  her  own  eggs  and  the  duck's  eggs  which  the  farmer's  wife  has  put 
into  her  nest.    But  when  she  has  hatched  her  brood,  part  of  them  are 


140  REASONING   FROM   EFFECT    TO    CAUSE. 

but  each  of  these  races  continues  itself  hy  producing  young  after 
its  own  kind.  It  is  not  pretended  that  there  is  any  known  in^ 
stance  of  the  transmutation  of  species,  or  of  the  evolution,  in  the 
ordinary  way,  of  any  being  specifically  different  from  its  parents. 
The  same  animal,  indeed,  may  pass  through  different  grades  of 
development ;  but  these  changes  affect  only  the  individual,  not 
the  race.  The  progeny  of  this  animal  must  begin  at  the  same 
point  where  its  parent  did,  and  run  precisely  the  same  cycle. 
The  tadpole  becomes  a  frog,  but  the  young  of  that  frog  are  tad- 
poles ;  the  w^orm  becomes  a  winged  insect,  but  the  eggs  of  that 
insect  are  hatched  into  nothing  but  worms.  These  changes  in 
the  life  of  the  individual,  like  the  successive  periods  of  the  em- 
bryotic  state,  of  infancy,  and  of  manhood  in  the  human  being, 
are  perfectly  consistent  with  persistence  of  type  in  the  race,  and 
do  not  indicate  even  the  possibility  that  a  new  species  may  be 
developed  out  of  an  old  one.  On  the  contrary,  the  germ  must 
be  considered  as  potentially  equivalent  to  the  whole  future  being, 
for  it  is  invariably  developed  into  that  being.  If  there  be  any 
one  fact  unquestionably  established  by  observation,  it  is,  that 
each  species  invariably  produces  its  like.  "All  the  phenomena,'* 
says  Miiller,  one  of  the  first  physiologists  of  the  day,  "  all  the 
phenomena  at  present  observed  in  the  animal  kingdom  seem  to 
prove,  that  the  species  were  originally  created  distinct,  and  in- 
dependent of  each  other.  There  is  no  remote  possibility  of  one 
species  being  produced  from  another." 

Result  of  this  branch  of  the  argument.  —  Here,  then,  we  rest 
the  first  and  lowest  branch  of  the  argument  a  posteriorij  con- 
sidering it  as  an  established  fact  in  physical  science,  that  organ- 
ization and  life  on  this  earth  did  begin  to  be,  within  a  definite 
period  of  time,  and  that  none  of  the  physical  causes  now  in  opera- 

foumi  to  be  webfooted,  and  these,  to  her  great  astonishment  and  distress^ 
immediately  take  to  the  water.  Those  who  uphold  this  theory  commit  the 
same  blander  as  the  poor  hen.  This  want  of  consciousness  that  they  have 
got  to  the  end  of  their  tether,  this  inability  to  believe  that  any  difference 
can  exist  where  they  are  not  able  to  see  it,  though  it  is  invariably  indi* 
cated  by  future  consequent  differences  of  the  most  striking  nature^  is  per- 
fectly characteristic  of  the  rash  theorist  in  science. 


REASONING   FROM   EFFECT    TO    CAUSE.  141 

tion  is  adequate  to  account  for  that  beginning.  We  are  led,  then, 
irresistibly  up  to  the  agency  of  a  First  Cause,  a  power  not  in- 
herent in  nature,  but  in  one  sense  external  to  it  and  acting  upon 
it,  and  which,  for  the  reason  already  stated,  must  have  existed 
from  everlasting. 

I  have  called  this  the  lowest  branch  of  the  argument,  because, 
though  the  conclusion  seems  to  me  to  be  legitimate,  and  even 
unavoidable,  it  does  not  fully  answer  our  desires,  nor  satisfy  the 
aspirations  of  the  religious  sentiment  in  man.  To  prove  the 
being  of  a  Creator  only  from  an  act  of  creation  assumed  to  have 
been  completed  long  ago,  if  a  useful,  is  still  a  frigid,  result  of 
the  inquiry.  It  seems  too  much  like  establishing  some  remote 
fact  in  history,  which  ceased  long  since  to  have  any  immediate 
interest,  as  its  direct  consequences  are  no  longer  traceable.  We 
seek  to  bring  the  argument  and  the  doctrine  home  by  proofs  of 
the  repeated,  if  not  the  continuous,- agency  of  Omnipotence,  so 
that  what  is  almost  the  abstract  conception  of  a  First  Cause 
may  be  changed  into  a  well-grounded  faith  in  the  existence  of 
an  infinite  and  ever-watchful  Father. 

The  work  of  creation  frequently  renewed  and  extended.  —  One 
step,  and  an  important  on«,  towards  this  conclusion,  we  are  able 
immediately  to  take.  The  work  of  creation  was  not  a  single 
act,  begun  and  ended  by  a  solitary  exertion  of  power ;  it  was 
often  renewed,  and  it  extended  over  a  lapse  of  ages  which  the 
imagination  vainly  strives  to  comprehend.  Science  has  discov- 
ered an  ineffaceable  and  undoubted  record  of  a  multitude  of 
cases,  in  which  preceding  laws  of  nature,  that  had  been  unbroken 
for  ages,  were  interrupted  by  special  exertions  of  a  foreign 
power.  Mighty  revolutions  have  often  swept  the  face  of  this 
l^lanet,  hurrying  nearly  all  former  orders  of  life  into  ruin ;  and 
each  time,  the  desert  was  peopled  anew  with  animated  tribes 
wholly  unlike  their  predecessors.  Geology  is  but  the  history, 
chronicled  in  stone,  of  many  miracles  performed  before  man  was, 
and  extending  far  back  into  a  past  eternity.  There  is  not  an 
animal  or  a  plant  on  this  earth,  which,  as  a  race,  is  not  older 
than  man.  Science  does  not  contradict,  it  rather  confirms,  that 
voice  of  revelation  or  tradition  which  assigns  about  six  thousand 


142  REASONING    FROM    EFFECT    TO    CAUSE. 

years  as  the  period  of  man's  residence  upon  the  earth.  One  of 
the  latest  events  in  the  geological  history  of  the  world,  we  are 
told,  was  a  great  submersion  of  the  land,  by  which  "  terrestrial 
animal  life  was  extensively,  if  not  universally,  destroyed ; "  so 
that  the  creation  of  the  species  now  in  being  —  at  least,  all  the 
higher  species  —  was  "  a  comparatively  recent  event,  and  one 
posterior  generally  speaking,  to  all  the  great  natural  transac- 
tions chronicled  by  geology."  From  this  "  recent  event,"  back 
certainly  as  far  as  the  time  when  those  races  began  to  be,  the 
remains  of  which  are  now  found  entombed  in  the  lowest  Silurian 
rocks,  the  period  of  creation  extends,  —  a  drama  of  many  acts 
and  countless  shifting  scenes,  each  one  of  which  leads  us  up  to  a 
knowledge  of  its  Infinite  Author. 

In  truth,  the  assumed  invariableness  of  the  laws  of  nature, 
considering  these  only  as  the  necessary  manifestations  of  pow- 
ers inherent  in  the  substances  themselves,  is  a  doctrine  which 
loses  all  meaning,  as  well  as  probability,  when  we  look  to  the 
annals  of  the  universe  for  guidance,  and  not  merely  to  the  story 
of  one  life,  or  even  of  one  order  of  being.  The  history  of  God's 
providence  is  not  the  story  of  a  day,  nor  can  it  be  interpreted 
by  the  experience  of  an  hour.  We  must  decipher  even  the 
record,  inscribed  on  the  rocks,  of  the  mutations  which  this  solid 
globe  has  undergone,  i7i  the  vast  series  of  ages  that  elapsed  hefoi^e 
it  was  peopled  with  beings  like  ourselves.  If  we  would  climb  to 
the  heights  of  this  great  argument,  our  view  must  be  expanded 
in  feeble  imitation  of  His  vision  with  whom  a  thousand  years 
are  but  as  one  day.  Perhaps  it  will  be  found,  that  these  sup- 
posed breaks  in  the  continuity  of  the  inferior  laws  of  nature  are 
but  the  intercalations  of  a  higher  law,  working  for  a  nobler  end ; 
that  what  appear  as  special  exertions  of  Divine  agency,  are  but 
the  ordinary  mode  in  which  infinite  ivisdom  works  and  governs  ; 
that  the  physical  is  subordinate  throughout  to  the  moral  uni- 
verse ;  and  that  what  man  calls  interruptions  of  the  usual  course 
of  nature,  are  precisely  what  he  might  most  reasonably  and 
naturally  expect  from  omnipotence  and  infinite  benevolence 
combined. 

Parallel  between  human  and  Divine  action.  —  The  action  of 


RIEASONING   FROM   EFFECT   TO    CAUSE.  143 

a  human  being,  though  generally  Inconstant  and  wavering, 
from  his  unsettled  will,  so  that  the  future  cannot  be  predicted 
from  the  past,  is  also  often  directed  through  long  periods  by  a 
fixed  purpose,  and  rendered  uniform  through  the  facility  ac- 
quired by  habit ;  so  that,  if  it  were  watched  by  a  being  of  a 
different  race,  ignorant  of  the  human  constitution,  and  very 
limited  in  his  period  of  observation,  it  would  appear  mechanical, 
and,  like  the  regular  working  of  a  machine,  to  be  attributable 
only  to  an  impulse  given  to  it  at  the  commencement,  and  not 
afterwards  renewed.  If,  however,  the  observation  were  con- 
tinued for  a  longer  time,  or  if  a  record  could  be  found  of  the 
man's  whole  history,  the  changes  of  action  induced  by  altered 
circumstances,  or  a  fluctuating  purpose,  would  be  manifest. 
Greology  is  such  a  record  of  the  history  of  the  universe,  showing 
those  breaks  in  the  succession  of  events,  which  prove  the  fre- 
quent interposition  of  directing  will  and  sustaining  power ;  each 
of  them  being  an  insoluble  problem,  unless  we  admit  that  such  a 
will  exists.  If  it  be  objected  to  the  probability  of  such  interrup- 
tions, that  it  is  inconsistent  with  the  attribute  of  Divine  wisdom 
to  suppose  that  the  Deity  ever  changes  his  plan,  or  alters  his 
purpose,  I  answer,  Jirst,  he  who  declares  that  infinite  wisdom 
necessarily  dictates  invariability  of  action,  also  assumes  that  he 
possesses  infinite  wisdom  himself ;  and  secondly,  a  change  in  the 
mode  of  action  does  not  necessarily  imply  a  change  of  purpose. 
The  emergency  may  have  been  foreseen,  the  extraordinary  ac- 
tion by  which  it  was  to  be  met  may  have  been  predetermined, 
from  the  foundation  of  the  world.  At  any  rate,  this  considera- 
tion is  one  with  M^hich,  for  our  present  object,  the  proof  only  of 
the  being  of  a  God,  we  have  nothing  to  do.  The  facts  are  un- 
questionable ;  that  such  interruptions  have  taken  place,  whether 
they  argue  a  change  of  the  Divine  purpose  or  not,  cannot  be 
denied.  Huge  strata  of  earthbound  rock,  the  solid  framework 
of  the  globe  itself,  in  characters  which  the  school-boy  now  may 
read,  testify  to  the  unceasing  guardianship,  the  frequent  inter- 
vention to  repair,  renew,  and  improve,  of  Him  who  created  the 
heavens  and  the  earth,  and  laid  the  corner-stone  thereof.  The 
world  was  never  an  orphan,  never  left  to  the  dominion  of  chance, 


144  REASONING   FROM   EFFECT   TO   CAUSE. 

or  —  what  is  little  better  —  to  the  blind  and  unbroken  operation 
of  what  are  called  natural  laws.  A  Father's  care  watched  over 
it,  a  Father's  hand  peopled  it  again  aiid  again  with  tribes  of 
livinf?  things,  —  not  by  inflexible  ordinances,  nor  by  vicarious 
government  through  secondary  means,  —  but  even  as  an  earthly 
parent  careth  for  his  children. 

Tlie  argument  applied  to  the  hecfinning  of  man's  existence.  — 
But  we  may  go  much  further,  and  find  sufficient  proof  of  far 
more  frequent  intervention  of  Divine  power  in  the  affairs  of  the 
universe  than  that  which  is  confirmed  by  geological  evidence. 
Admitting,  for  a  moment,  the  general  principle,  which  I  regard 
as  wholly  indefensible  and  unphilosopiiical,  that  in  the  material 
universe,  the  argument  from  the  effect  to  the  cause  finds  place 
only  at  the  beginning  of  a  succession  of  beings,  and  not  at  any 
one  link  in  that  succession,  in  tlie  world  of  mind  we  have 
irrefragable  evidence,  at  every  step,  which  leads  us  up  from  the 
created  directly  to  the  Creator.  This  evidence  appears  in  the 
essential  unity  of  personality,  in  that  recognition  of  the  indivisible 
selfm  consciousness,  on  which  so  much  stress  has  already  been 
laid.  Each  person  can  say  of  himself,  "/  have  a  separate  and 
indivisible  existence."  We  may  borrow  again  the  language  of 
Fichte,  as  it  is  the  unwilling  concession  of  an  opponent:  "I 
have  not  come  into  existence  by  my  own  power.  It  would  be 
the  highest  absurdity  to  suppose,  that  before  I  was  at  all,  I 
could  bring  myself  into  existence  :  I  have,  then,  been  called  into 
being  by  a  power  out  of  myself" 

Starting  from  this  admission,  we  say  that  the  theory  which 
Fichte  adopts,  and  which  we  are  here  taking  for  granted  in 
respect  to  the  world  of  matter,  —  which  rfers  the  heginning  of 
an  individual's  existence  to  the  first  creation  of  the  race  to  which 
he  belongs,  which  considers  intelUgent  life  as  continuous  through 
a  succession  of  beings,  one  springing  out  of  another,  and  then 
giving  birth  to  a  third,  by  virtue  of  principles  infused  or  ma- 
chinery contrived  in  the  race^  when  the  original  progenitor  of  it 
was  formed,  —  this  theory,  we  say,  will  not  hold  in  the  present 
case.  It  may  account  for  the  origin  of  the  material  framework, 
the  habitation  of  clay,  in  which  I  live ;  but  it  will  not  account 


REASONING   FROM   EFFECT   TO    CAUSE.  145 

for  the  origin  of  me.  It  is  contradicted  by  the  great  fact  of  my 
existence  as  an  indivisible  unit.  Complexity  of  parts,  accord- 
ing to  the  materialist's  hypothesis,  is  essential  to  the  propagation 
of  existence.  The  seed  exists  in  the  fruit ;  the  germ  exists  in 
the  seed.  It  is  afterwards  taken  from  the  fruit  and  the  seed, 
and  begins  to  exist  as  a  distinct  plant.  But  this  is  the  com- 
mencement of  its  separate,  not  of  its  total  being.  It  existed  be- 
fore ;  it  was  in  the  parent  plant,  as  a  part  of  it ;  and  its  birth 
was  not  a  creation,  but  a  division  of  existence.  The  beginning 
of  any  material  life,  a  tree,  a  flower,  an  animal,  is  not  the  crea- 
tion of  any  thing  new,  says  the  materialist,  but  the  development 
of  a  germ  which  existed  ages  before,  —  which  has  lived  ever 
since  the  world  was.  But  the  heginning  of  intellectual  life,  the 
esseiitial  unity  of  which  is  attested  by  consciousness,  cannot  he  ex- 
plained hy  mere  separation.  It  cannot  give  birth  to  another  by 
division  of  itself.  In  fine,  the  materialist  affirms,  that  birth  is 
but  a  separation,  and  growth  but  an  accretion  and  assimilation, 
of  parts  that  previously  existed,  though  in  an  inorganic  state ; 
for  it  is  a  necessary  part  of  this  hypothesis,  that  the  number  of 
primary  particles  in  the  universe  is  neither  more  nor  less  than 
it  was  at  the  creation.  Meeting  him  on  his  own  ground,  we 
reply,  that  his  own  personal  existence  is  certain  proof,  that  at 
least  one  unit  has  been  added  to  the  mass  of  being  since  the 
formation  of  the  universe.  Of  course,  we  have  every  reason 
from  analogy  to  believe,  that  the  heginning  of  life  in  all  cases, 
even  animal  and  vegetable,  is  the  addition  of  a  unit  to  the  sum 
of  heing,  and  therefore  a  direct  act  of  creation,  as  much  so  as  the 
building  of  a  world  or  a  system.  But  only  in  intellectual  life 
have  we  positive  evidence  of  this  fact  from  consciousness. 

13 


146  THE   IMMEDIATE   AGENCY    OF   THE   DEITY. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

ALL  EVENTS  IN  THE  MATERIAL  UNIVERSE  A  PROOF  OF  THE 
PRESENCE  AND  THE  AGENCY  OF  GOD. 

Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  After  completing,  in  the  last 
chapter,  a  very  brief  exposition  of  the  freedom  of  the  will,  the 
subject  of  the  common  argument  a  posteriori  to  prove  the  being 
of  a  God  was  taken  up  with  a  view,  not  so  much  to  restate  it, 
or  to  enter  into  its  details,  as  to  determine  its  logical  character, 
and  to  consider  its  claims  as  a  just  and  philosophical  specimen 
of  reasoning.  Having  shown,  on  a  former  occasion,  that  the 
doctrines  of  theology  related  to  matters  of  fact,  I  endeavored  to 
prove  that  the  evidence  in  their  favor  was  such  as  might  be 
expected  in  physical  science,  —  that  it  was  to  be  gathered  from 
observation  and  experience.  The  other  sciences  are  to  be  laid 
under  contribution  for  this  end ;  geology,  in  particular,  consid- 
ered as  a  record  of  the  antecedent  history  of  this  earth,  might 
be  expected  to  furnish  proofs  of  the  agency  of  that  Being  by 
whom  this  earth,  with  all  that  it  inhabit,  was  created  and  sus- 
tained. 

Taking  the  first,  and  certainly  the  more  abstract,  branch  of  the 
argument, —  that  which  infers  the  reality  of  a  cause  simply  from 
the  presence  of  the  effect,  without  regard  to  the  peculiarities  of 
that  effect,  —  I  attempted  to  show,  even  from  the  most  recently 
and  best  established  facts  in  geology  and  zoology,  that  events 
had  taken  place,  or  things  had  begun  to  exist,  which  the  ordi- 
nary laws  of  nature,  as  they  are  called,  cannot  account  for,  and 
which,  consequently,  must  be  referred  to  the  agency  of  the 
great  First  Cause.  If  you  reject  this  inference,  you  must  deny, 
either  that  organization  and  life  on  this  earth  did  begin  to  be, 
that  is,  you  must  reject  many  of  the  best  accredited  conclusions 
of  modern  science,  on  which,  indeed,  some  entire  sciences  ex- 
clusively depend ;  or  you  must  assert,  that  an  event  can  take 


THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF   THE    DEITY.  "  147 

place  without  a  caicse,  and  thus  contradict  what  is  either  an 
intuitive  axiom,  or  a  principle  founded  on  the  largest  induction 
of  which  the  human  mind  is  capable.  The  metaphysical  reason- 
ing of  Clarke  on  this  subject  was  shown  to  be  unsatisfactory, 
chiefly  on  the  ground  that  it  is  metaphysical ;  and  therefore 
the  conclusion,  which  is  a  fact,  cannot  be  inferred  from  the 
premises,  so  far  as  these  are  mere  abstractions,  without  really 
begging  the  question.  It  was  further  proved,  that  creation  was 
not  a  solitary  act,  begun  and  completed  long  ago,  but  rather 
that  it  consisted  of  numberless  acts,  extending  over  vast  periods 
of  time  ;  and  thus  that  it  afforded  not  merely  increased  proofs 
of  the  Divine  existence,  but  satisfactory  evidence,  also,  of  the 
renewed  and  repeated,  if  not  the  continuous,  exertion  of  Divine 
power.  This  last  conclusion  was  strengthened  and  brought 
still  nearer  home  through  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  that 
person,  or  self,  is  indivisible,  and  therefore  immaterial ;  and 
thus,  that  the  creation  of  every  human  soul  cannot  be  accounted 
for,  except  as  the  direct  act  of  Omnipotence. 

All  events  in  the  material  universe  evince  the  being  of  a  God, 
—  It  is  but  a  short  step,  then,  to  take  in  the  extension  of  this 
argument,  to  say,  that  all  events  whatever  in  the  material  uni" 
verse,  except  those  which  are  caused  directly  by  human  will  and 
power,  are  in  truth  the  doings  of  the  Infinite  One.  Hitherto, 
this  doctrine  of  immediate  Divine  agency  has  been  considered 
only  in  its  place  with  other  theories  of  causation,  as  the  most 
plausible,  if  not  the  only  possible,  explanation  of  the  phenom- 
ena of  nature.  We  are  now  to  consider  whether  the  evidence 
on  which  it  rests  is  not  so  strong,  that  it  may  well  be  classed 
with  other  proofs  of  the  being  of  a  God,  and  in  one  respect, 
indeed,  be  viewed  as  more  satisfactory  than  any  other,  as  it  is 
the  only  one  from  which  we  infer  directly  his  present  existence. 
The  argument,  both  from  creation  and  design,  proves  imme- 
diately that  he  was ;  here  we  find  direct  evidence  that  he  is. 
The  phenomena  of  nature,  so  far  as  they  show  action  or  change, 
from  the  breaking  of  a  bubble  on  the  stream,  up  to  the  swift 
flight  of  the  celestial  orbs  in  their  appointed  paths,  do  not 
merely  prove,  but  directly  manifest,  his  existence  and  liis  glory. 


148  THE   IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY, 

Let  me  not  be  uiiderstoocl  as  depreciating  the  value  of  the  other 
proofs,  in  order  to  rest  the  whole  weight  of  the  argument  here. 
I  mention  the  distinction  only  to  characterize  more  definitely 
the  nature  of  this  mode  of  reasoning,  and  not  to  lessen  the 
cogency  of  the  other  forms  of  proof. 

How  we  recognize  God  in  nature.  —  We  recognize  the  pres- 
ence of  God  in  nature  in  precisely  the  same  manner  in  which 
we  come  to  know  that  any  intelligent,  though  finite,  being  exists 
besides  ourselves.  The  outward  form  surely  is  nothing ;  a 
statue  or  an  automaton  may  be  moulded  into  a  perfect  external 
likeness  of  a  man.  But  the  actions  of  the  living  man  show 
that  he  is  animated  by  a  spirit  kindred  to  our  own,  by  some- 
thing distinct  from  the  mere  fi-amework  of  bones  and  muscles 
which  he  inhabits,  and  which  we  distinguish  as  clearly  from  the 
person  within  as  we  do  our  own  bodies  from  ourselves.  /  am 
conscious  of  power  dependent  on  my  will,  and  I  perceive  the 
effects  produced  on  matter  by  the  exertion  of  that  will ;  I  per- 
ceive, also,  perfectly  similar  effects,  which  I  can  attribute  only 
to  my  brother  man,  and  I  infer,  therefore,  that  he  exists,  and 
that  his  will  is  equally  active  in  producing  those  effects.  I  do 
not  imagine  that  his  limbs  move  themselves^  but  that  he  moves 
them ;  I  do  not  think  that  his  eye  turns  towards  me  of  its  own 
accord  with  a  glance  of  affection,  or  that  his  hand  comes  to 
meet  mine  in  a  friendly  grasp  from  an  energy  that  is  inherent 
in  that  hand  alone.  In  like  manner,  then,  I  say,  if  His  sun 
rolls  over  my  head  and  warms  me,  if  His  wind  cools  and  re- 
freshes me,  if  His  voice  speaks  to  me,  whether  in  the  thunder 
at  midnight,  or  in  the  whispers  of  the  forest,  or  but  in  th-e  rust- 
ling of  a  leaf,  if  His  seasons  still  come  round  to  me  in  their 
grateful  vicissitude,  and  wherever  I  look  in  outward  nature,  1 
behold  constant  action,  change,  and  joy,  I  do  not  suppose  that 
brute  and  senseless  matter  causes  all  this  by  its  inherent  power, 
whether  original  or  derived,  but  that  the  spirit,  the  Person 
within,  controls,  vivifies,  ai>d  produces  all. 

"  These,  as  they  change,  Almighty  Father,  these 
Are  but  the  varied  God.     The  rolling  year 
Is  full  of  thee 


THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY.  149 

But  wandering  oft,  with  brute,  unconscious  gaze, 
Man  marks  not  thee,  marks  not  the  mighty  hand 
That,  ever  busy,  wheels  the  silent  spheres." 

Do  not  say,  that  this  is  mere  poetical  enthusiasm,  or  devo- 
tion, but  not  truth ;  it  is  the  highest  form  of  poetry,  precisely 
because  it  is  the  literal  truth.  It  is  a  conclusion  founded  oil 
the  most  accurate  researches  of  science,  no  less  than  on  the 
instinctive  promptings  of  our  human  nature,  and  on  the  aspi- 
rations of  the  religious  sentiment  within  us  ;  it  is  alike  the  doc- 
trine of  the  intelligent  mind  and  the  dictate  of  the  upright 
heart.  We  know  not  of  any  direct  agency,  we  find  no  proof 
of  any  active  power,  but  that  which  is  the  attribute  of  person- 
ality, which  is  directed  by  will,  and  witnessed  by  consciousness. 
External  nature,  when  questioned  as  to  the  reality  of  power 
originating  in  itself,  or  inherited  in  its  own  right,  hears  not  and 
answers  not ;  no  efficient  cause,  that  is,  no  cause  at  all,  in  the 
proper  signification  of  the  word,  has  ever  been  discovered  in  it. 
Whence  come,  then,  its  countless  changes,  its  mcessant  activity 
and  life  ?  It  is  no  answer  to  this  question  to  say,  that  events 
constantly  succeed  each  other  in  regular  sequence,  or  even  to 
give  a  name  to  that  order,  and  call  it  law,  or  physical  cause. 
You  cannot  believe,  you  cannot  even  imagine,  that  any  one  of 
these  events  takes  place  without  a  real  cause,  an  efficient  energy, 
without  which  it  were  not.  If  matter  be  considered  entirely 
apart  from  mind,  it  is  dead,  formless,  and  motionless  ;  no  winds 
agitate  the  surface  of  a  chaotic  ocean,  no  tides  heave  its 
waters,  no  waves  break  upon  its  silent  shores.  No  eye  can 
penetrate 

"  The  secrets  of  the  hoary  deep,  a  dark 
Illimitable  ocean,  without  bound, 
Without  dimension,  where  length,  bi'eadth,  and  height. 
And  time  and  place,  are  lost ;  where  eldest  Night 
And  Chaos,  ancestors  of  Nature,  hold 

Eternal  empire In  this  wild  abyss, 

The  womb  of  Nature,  and  perhaps  her  grave. 
Is  neither  sea,  nor  shore,  nor  air,  nor  fire. 
But  all  these  in  their  pregnant  causes  mixed 
Confus'dly." 

13* 


150  THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY. 

ISniton's  conception  of  inorganic  matter  left  to  itself,  without 
an  indwelling  soul,  is  not  merely  more  poetical,  but  more  pliilo- 
sophical  and  just,  than  the  scientific  romance,  now  generally 
repudiated  by  all  rational  inquirers,  which  represents  it  as  nec- 
essarily imbued  with  the  seminal  principles  of  organization  and 
life,  and  waking  up  by  its  own  fox'ce  from  eternal  quietude  to 
eternal  motion. 

But  I  need  not  here  renew  the  argument,  already  considered 
at  sufl&cient  length  for  our  purposes,  in  favor  of  attributing  all 
the  active  phenomena  of  nature  directly  to  the  omnipresence  and 
omnipotence  of  God.  A  few  considerations,  which  tend  rather 
to  illustrate  than  to  prove  the  doctrine,  and  to  account  for  the 
general  reception  of  the  popular  fallacy  which  ascribes  efficient 
causation  to  matter,  will  close  the  review  of  this  branch  of  the 
subject. 

This  reasoning  applied  to  the  phenomena  of  gravitation.  —  Of 
all  the  classes  into  which  the  motions  and  changes  of  material 
objects  are  divided,  with  ref(frence  to  their  genei'al  similarity, 
and  hence  to  a  supposed  unity  of  cause,  the  most  comprehen- 
sive and  important  are  those  oi  gravitation  ^m^  o^  lifa^  —  the 
latter  term  being  understood,  as  in  the  vegetable  kingdom,  to 
signify  merely  the  law  of  formation  and  growth,  without  sup- 
posing that  any  inherent  principle  exists  in  the  plant  distinct 
from  its  organic  arrangeruent.  As  to  the  former  class,  the  fact 
that  all  particles  of  matter  constantly  tend  towards  each  other  is 
the  great  conservative  or  sustaining  principle  of  the  mate- 
rial universe.  Though  often  suspended  or  overbalanced  by  a 
stronger  agency,  as  in  all  cases  of  life,  the  instances  of  it  falling 
under  our  immediate  observation  are  still  so  numerous,  that  we 
suppose  there  is  no  mystery  in  it.  A  weight  that  is  no  longer 
supported  falls  to  the  ground ;  and  this  phenomenon,  from  the 
frequency  of  its  occurrence,  excites  no  wonder.  If  it  ever  oc- 
curs to  us  to  ask  after  its  cause,  we  are  contented  with  the 
answer,  that  it  is  probably  the  same  cause  which  makes  other 
weights  fall  under  similar  circumstances,  though  this  certainly 
is  no  answer  at  all  to  the  main  question.  That  this  gravity,  or 
tendency  to  fall,  is  no  primary  quality  of  the  substance  itself, 


THE  im:mediate  agency  of  the  deity.         "  151 

necessarily  entering  into  our  conception  of  it,  as  its  extension 
does,  is  evident  enough  from  the  fact,  that  before  any  observa- 
tion or  experience  of  motion  from  gravitation,  we  should  no 
more  expect  the  body  to  fall  downwards  than  upwards,  like  a 
balloon,  or  side  wise,  like  a  bird.  The  vicinity  of  the  body  to 
the  earth  is  now  known  not  to  be  the  characteristic  feature  of 
the  phenomenon,  as  gravity  is  found  to  be  the  law  of  the  mate- 
rial universe. 

Consider,  then,  one  of  the  great  orbs  which  hang  suspended 
in  void  space,  isolated  by  millions  of  miles  in  every  direction 
from  other  objects,  and  in  reference  to  the  motion  of  which, 
therefore,  the  words  upwards  and  downwards  hardly  seem  to 
have  any  meaning.  Why  should  this  hodij  fall  towards  another 
orb  which  is  more  than  ninety  millions  of  miles  off,  in  prefer- 
ence to  moving  in  any  other  direction  ?  You  will  doubtless  say, 
that  it  is  the  attraction  of  the  sun,  which  draws  it.  But  exam- 
ine carefully,  I  pray  you,  whether"  this  answer  be  in  truth  the 
assignment  of  a  cause,  or  merely  another  expression,  an  expres- 
sion in  different  words,  of  the  fact  that  the  body  does  tend  to 
move  towards  the  sun,  which  is  the  phenomenon  itself  that  we 
seek  to  account  for.  No  axiom  seems  more  self-evident  than 
the  old  adage,  that  nothing  can  act  hut  where  it  is ;  or  if  you 
hesitate  to  accept  this  maxim  in  all  its  generality,  you  will 
surely  admit  that  brute  matter  —  a  collection  of  extended,  im- 
penetrable, and  insensate  particles  —  cannot  act  where  it  is  not. 
It  is  a  sufficiently  violent  hypothesis,  to  imagine  that  it  can 
really  act  at  all,  or  have  any  real  force  even  within  its  own 
limits.  But  that  it  can  exert  any  influence  beyond  these  limits, 
is  demonstrably  absurd ;  for  action  is  a  state  of  being,  and  that 
a  body  should  act  where  it  is  not,  is  therefore  equivalent  to  say- 
ing that  it  is  possible  for  the  same  thing  to  be  and  not  to  be  at  the 
same  moment,  which  is  a  contradiction.  How,  then,  can  the 
sun  act  upon  a  body  which  is  eighteen  hundred  millions  of 
miles  off,  which  is  the  distance  of  Uranus,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
newly  discovered  planet,  which  is  nearly  twice  as  far,  this  im- 
mense intervening  space  being  entirely  void  ?  I  say,  then,  the 
supposition,   that   the   sun,  or  any  other  material   substance, 


152      THE  IMMEDIATE  AGENCY  OF  THE  DEITY. 

really  acts  on  another  body,  at  a  distance  from  it,  is  not  merely 
extravagant,  it  is  inconceivable ;  and  as  the  point  of  greater  or 
less  distance  is  really  of  no  importance,  except  to  aid  us  in  con- 
ceiving the  question  distinctly,  the  falling  of  a  stone  to  the 
gi'ound,  either  by  its  own  inherent  power,  or  by  that  of  the 
earth,  is  equally  inconceivable. 

But  along  with  gravity,  another  property  is  attributed  to 
brute  matter ;  namely,  that  when  once  set  in  motion,  it  tends  to 
move  onwards  in  a  straight  line,  with  a  uniform  velocity,  for 
ever.  The  hypothesis  here  is  of  the  same  character,  and  quite 
as  extravagant,  as  in  the  former  case ;  but  no  matter ;  let  us, 
for  the  present,  take  it  for  granted.  The  planets,  and  all  the 
other  heavenly  bodies,  do  not  move  in  straight  hues,  but  ini 
curves ;  and  the  mathematician  will  therefore  tell  you,  that  at 
every  instaiit  they  are  deflected,  or  turned  aside  from  their 
proper  course,  by  some  agency  foreign  to  themselves,  which 
operates  on  them  uniformly,  with  a  constant  force,  tending 
towards  a  fixed  point,  thus  keeping  them  within  their  appointed 
bounds.  What  is  this  agency  ?  Or  rather,  whose  is  it,  but  His 
"  who  spake  the  word,  and  they  were  made  ?  who  commanded, 
and  they  were  created  ?  who  hath  made  them  fast  for  ever  and 
for  ever,  and  hath  given  them  a  law  which  shall  not  be  bro- 
ken?" 

The  purpose  of  the  astronomer's  calculations.  —  This  view 
does  not  conflict  with  a  just  conception  of  the  manner  m  which 
mathematical  reasoning  is  applied  to  matters  of  fact,  but  tends 
rather  to  elucidate  and  confirm  it.  The  real  object  of  the 
astronomer's  calculations  is  to  express  the  law,  that  is,  the  uni- 
formity,  of  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  with  little  regard 
to  any  theory  as  to  the  origin  or  cause  of  those  motions.  The 
motion  alone  is  mensurable,  depending  on  the  relations  of  space 
and  time  ;  and  therefore  it  alone  is  calculable ;  the  cause  of  it 
cannot  he  measured,  for  it  cannot  even  be  perceived.  The  math- 
ematician, indeed,  for  the  sake  of  clearness,  begins  with  certain 
arbitrary  hypotheses  as  to  the  origin  and  nature  of  the  phenom- 
ena ;  but  his  calculations  do  not  rest  upon  the  truth  in  fact  of 
those  hypotheses,  but  only  on  the  phenomena  themselves,  which 


THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY.  153 

he  supposes  to  result  from  them.  These  hypotheses  are  not  the 
actual  structure,  the  foundations  and  walls,  of  his  building,  but 
the  temporary  scaffolding  by  the  aid  of  which  he  erects  those 
walls.  They  form  the  theory  which  enables  him  to  express  in 
mathematical  language  the  facts  or  actual  phenomena,  —  to 
recur  to  the  preceding  metaphor,  the  separate  stones  of  which 
the  walls  are  composed ;  and  there  may  be  several  theories, 
directly  conflicting  with  each  other,  which  will  answer  this  pur- 
pose equally  well. 

Thus,  nearly  all  the  phenomena  of  light  are  equally  explicable 
on  the  theory  either  of  emission  or  of  undulation  ;  from  which- 
ever of  these  two  hypotheses  the  mathematician  starts,  the  re- 
sults of  his  calculations  agree  equally  well  with  the  observed 
phenomena ;  and  yet,  be  it  observed,  the  two  hypotheses  differ 
fundamentally,  radically,  from  each  other;  they  are  contradic- 
tory. But  as  they  are  used  only  for  a  temporary  purpose,  just 
like  the  abstractions  and  postulates  which  constitute  the  first 
principles  of  pure  mathematical  science  itself,  the  correctness  of 
the  result  in  nowise  depends  on  their  reality,  their  truth  or 
falsity.  They  are  mere  scaffolding.  Hence  it  was,  that,  until 
some  crucial  experiments  were  recently  devised,  which  reaUy 
determined  that  the  undulatory  theory  was  more  satisfactory,  or 
came  nearer  to  the  truth,  than  that  of  emissions,  it  was  actually 
proposed  as  one  reason  for  preferring  this  hypothesis  to  its  rival, 
that  it  was  more  convenient  for  calculation  ;  —  it  was  a  handier 
tool  to  work  with. 

What  are  forces  in  physical  science.  —  We  now  see  the  rea- 
son why  there  is  so  much  talk  about  various  forces  in  physical 
science,  especially  in  meehanics,  when  the  mathematician  seeks 
to  express  the  facts  in  his  own  language.  An  objector  to  my 
argument  might  ask,  How  is  it  that  you  say  there  is  no  real 
power  or  force  discoverable  in  the  material  universe  as  such, 
when  a  Laplace  or  a  Bowditch,  who  deals  with  the  most  rigor- 
ous and  accurate  of  all  sciences,  is  constantly  speaking  of  a 
great  number  of  forces,  and  clearly  distinguishes  them  from 
each  other,  and  measures  with  the  nicety  of  a  hair's  breadth 
their  respective  results  ?     I  answer,  what  the  physical  inquirer 


154  THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY. 

calls  force,  is  merely  a  mathematical  expression  for  the  law.  or 
order,  with  wliich  certain  observed  results  of  a  supposed  force 
succeed  each  other.  The  calculation  actually  represents  those 
phenomena,  their  time,  character,  and  sequence,  —  and  nothing 
else ;  as  is  seen  at  the  close  of  the  process,  when  the  calculated 
results  are  tested  by  comparison  with  the  last-observed  phe- 
nomena. The  calculator,  in  the  midst  of  the  process,  often 
supposes  several  forces,  recognized  by  him  at  the  time  to  be 
fictitious  or  imaginary,  for  the  mere  purpose  of  facilitating  his 
labor.*     A  body  moving  along  the  diagonal  of  a  parallelogram 


*  Newton's  theory  is  not  an  empirical  law,  but  a  hypothetical  one.  He 
docs  not  say,  that  an  attractive  force  between  the  particles  of  matter  ac- 
tually exists,  but  only  that  all  bodies  move  or  rest  as  if  sxxch  a  force  existed. 
In  respect  to  the  solar  system,  it  would  be  an  equally  correct  statement  of 
his  doctrine  to  say,  that  the  motions  of  the  planets  relative  to  the  sun  and 
each  other,  and  of  all  satellites  relative  to  their  primaries,  are  such  as 
if  these  bodies  were  bound  to  each  other  by  elastic  matenal  ties,  the  strength 
of  which  varies  directly  as  the  masses  of  the  bodies  which  they  connect,  and 
inversely  as  the  squares  of  their  own  length.  Newton  no  more  believed  in 
the  actual  existence  of  an  attractive  force,  than  in  the  actual  existence  of 
such  elastic  bands. 

I  have  already  shown,  that  mathematical  science  can  offer  no  proof  what- 
ever of  a  physical  fact ;  it  can  prove  nothing  but  abstract  propositions. 
When  applied,  in  the  Mixed  Sciences,  it  simply  enables  us  to  make  a  more 
strict  and  exact  comparison,  than  would  otherwise  be  possible,  of  the  re- 
sults of  theory  with  the  facts  of  nature.  The  only  test  of  any  hypothesis  , 
respecting  the  relations  of  certain  phenomena  to  each  other,  is  observation  I 
and  experiment ;  and  a  competent  knowledge  of  mathematics  will  enable 
us  to  apply  this  test  with  the  utmost  precision.  With  it,  we  can  calculate, 
to  a  hair's  breadth,  the  necessary  results  according  to  theory ;  and  then, 
with  the  immense  improvements  of  modem  times  in  the  instruments  of 
observation,  we  can  determine  with  equal  accuracy  the  character  and  lim- 
its of  the  phenomenon.  The  astronomer,  in  his  observatory,  can  deter- 
mine the  time  at  which  the  occultation  did  take  place,  within  the  tenth 
part  of  a  second ;  and  the  mathematician,  in  the  room  below,  can  fix  the 
time  when,  according  to  theory,  it  ought  to  take  place,  within  the  hundredth 
part  of  a  second.  The  nice  coincidence  thus  made  out  affects  us  with 
wonder,  and  seems  to  common  minds  a  mathematical,  and  therefore  in- 
controvertible, proof  of  the  truth  of  the  theory.  But  the  coincidence  itself 
can  be  made  out,  in  a  rough  way,  with  the  naked  eye  as  the  only  means 
of  observation,  and  by  a  train  of  reasoning  from  the  theory  so  consequent  ' 


THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF   THE    DEITY.  155 

is  really  propelled  by  a  single  force,  as  when  moving  over  any 
other  straight  line  ;  but  it  is  often  convenient  to  suppose  it  im- 
pelled at  the  same  instant  by  two  forces,  corresponding  in  direc- 
tion and  intensity  to  two  adjacent  sides  of  the  figure. 

The  Ptolemaic  system  of  astronomy.  —  My  next  illustration, 
being  taken  from  astronomy,  comes  more  nearly  home  to  our 
leading  subject.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  conceive  of  two  theo- 
ries of  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  which  should  differ 
from  each  other  more  widely  than  do  those  of  Hipparchus  and 
Copernicus.  The  complex  and  intricate  system  of  the  former 
has  become,  though  unjustly,  the  derision  of  modern  science  ; 
Milton  ridiculed  it  long  ago,  in  the  counsel  which  he  makes 
Raphael  give  to  Adam,  not  to  seek  too  eagerly  to  pry  into  those 
secrets  of  the  heavens  which  "  the  great  Architect  did  wisely  to 
conceal ; "  — 

"  He  his  fabric  of  the  heavens 
Hath  left  to  their  disputes,  perhaps  to  move 
His  laughter  at  their  quaint  opinions  wide 
Hereafter,  when  they  come  to  model  heaven, 
And  calculate  the  stars  ;  how  they  will  wield 
The  mighty  frame,  how  build,  unbuild,  contrive, 
To  save  appearances  ;  how  gird  the  sphere 
With  centric  and  eccentric  scribbled  o'er, 
Cycle  and  epicycle,  orb  in  orb." 

The  same  complex  system,  when  explained  to  Alphonso,  king 
of  Castile,  gave  rise  to  his  noted  remark,  "  that  if  God  had  con- 
sulted him  at  the  creation,  the  universe  should  have  been  on  a 
better  and  simpler  plan."  Now  the  truth  is,  that  this  compli- 
cated and  fantastic  theory  of  the  heavens,  with  its  operose  con- 
trivances of  eccentric  wheels,  and  circles  riding  upon  circles, 
and  which,  in  point  of  fact,  is  false  from  beginning  to  end,  is 


and  direct,  that  a  mind  of  great  analytical  power  could  follow  it  without 
the  use  of  one  mathematical  symbol.  And  the  coincidence  itself,  whether 
roughly  or  nicely  determined,  aiFords  just  as  much  proof  of  the  theory,  as 
would  be  gained  in  favor  of  aitf  hypothesis  as  to  the  manner  in  which  my 
neighbor's  house  caught  fire,  ^  showing,  experimentally,  that  my  own 
bouse  might  be  so  fired  under  precisely  similar  circumstances. 


156  THE    niMlCDIATE    AGKNCV    OF    THE    DEITY. 

just  as  correct  a  basis  for  astronomical  calculations  as  the 
simpler,  more  beautiful,  and  more  truthful  system  of  Coperni- 
cus. Tlie  language  of  Mr.  Whewell,  whose  authority  on  a 
point  like  this  no  one  will  dispute,  is,  "  As  a  system  of  calcula- 
tion, [it]  is  not  only  good,  but  in  many  cases  no  better  has  yet 
been  discovered."  The  Ilipparchian  or  Ptolemaic  theory  repre- 
sents the  apparetit  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies  as  actual 
motions  ;  the  Copernican  deduces  these  apparent  motions  from 
a  totally  different  system  of  revolutions,  Avhich  it  considers  as 
the  real  one.  Both  systems  are  true  or  correct  in  this,  —  that 
they  represent  those  apparent  motions  rightly  ;  and  this  is  all  that 
is  needed  for  the  mathematician's  purposes,  all  that  the  calcu- 
lator wants  in  order  to  predict  what  will  be  the  aspect  of  the 
heavens,  or  the  exact  position  of  a  particular  body,  at  some 
future  time. 

Astronomical  theories  are  mere  geometrical  conceptions.  — 
The  office  of  theory,  then,  in  physical  science,  is  not  to  explain 
the  cause  or  the  origin  of  phenomena,  but  simply  to  represent 
with  precision  the  phenomena  themselves,  and  the  order  in 
which  they  succeed  each  other.  In  order  to  do  this  with  clear- 
ness and  simplicity,  the  theorist  feigns  certain  causes,  operating 
in  an  imaginary  way,  and  thus  gives  unity  to  the  phenomena  by 
"  making  believe  "  that  they  all  proceed  from  one  source,  the 
internal  constitution  of  which  is  such  that  it  can  produce  just 
these  phenomena  as  they  have  been  observed,  and  no  other. 
Ptolemy  had  a  correct  notion  of  the  Hipparchian  theory  in  this 
respect ;  for  although  his  predecessors  and  many  of  his  disciples 
taught  that  the  celestial  spheres  were  real  solid  bodies,  "  they 
are  spoken  of  by  him  as  imaginary  ;  and  it  is  clear,"  says  Mr. 
Whewell,  "  from  his  proof  of  the  identity  of  the  results  of  the 
hypothesis  of  an  eccentric  and  an  epicycle,  that  they  are  in- 
tended to  pass  for  no  more  than  geometrical  conceptions,  in 
which  view  they  are  true  representations  of  the  apparent  mo- 
tions." Now  the  several  forces^  by  which,  in  the  language  of 
modern  mathematicians,  the  heavenly  bodies  are  represented  as 
moved  and  directed,  are  just  sucli#  geometrical  conceptions  " 
as  those  of  an  eccentric  and  epicycle ;  rightly  speaking,  they  are 


# 

THE   IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OP   THE    DEITY.  157 

not  even  conceived  to  be  realities,  but  only  convenient  Jictions, 
just  like  the  great  circles,  —  the  equator,  the  ecliptic,  the  merid- 
ians, etc.,  —  which  not  even  the  school-boy  supposes  to  be  real 
and  material  arches  over  and  around  our  universe.  Newton 
found  that  the  elliptical  motions  of  the  planets  could  not  be 
mathematically  represented  by  the  hypothesis  of  one  mechanical 
force,  operating  on  them  constantly  and  uniformly ;  and  so  he 
imagined  two  forces,  one  being  that  of  gravitation,  which  tends 
constantly  towards  the  sun,  and  another  by  which  they  tend  to 
fly  off  at  a  tangent  from  their  orbits ;  or  the  latter  may  be 
considered  rather  as  the  result  of  the  primitive  projectile  force, 
with  which  the  planets  were  originally  launched  in  space.  From 
these  convenient  fictions,  he  found  he  could  deduce  mathemati- 
cally their  true  motions.  It  is  possible,  though  certainly  not 
probable,  that  some  mathematical  theory  will  hereafter  be  in- 
vented, which  will  account  for  the  motions  of  the  system  on  the 
hypothesis  of  a  single  force ;  if  so,  it  will  immediately  take  the 
place  of  the  present  theory,  on  account,  not  of  its  superior 
truth,  but  of  its  greater  simplicity.* 

Gravity  is  only  a  hypothetical  force,  —  What  shall  we  say, 
then,  of  a  hypothetical  history  of  the  universe,  which  pretends 
to  explain  both  the  genesis  and  the  progress  of  all  material 
worlds  by  the  aid  only  of  this  imaginary  force,  this  mathemati- 
cal fiction  ?  What  but  this,  —  that  it  affords  a  striking  proof  of 
the  manner  in  which  language  reacts  on  the  ideas  or  opinions 
that  it  is  intended  to  express,  and  thus  leads  men  to  talk  non- 

*  I  am  able  to  quote  the  admission  of  M.  Comte  himself,  a  mathe- 
matician who  will  not  be  accused  of  any  religious  tendencies,  that  this 
remark  is  well  founded.  "  In  my  dread  of  our  resting  in  notions  of  any 
thing  absolute,  I  would  venture  to  say,  that  I  can  conceive  of  such  a  thing 
as  even  our  theory  of  gravitation  being  hereafter  superseded.  I  do  not 
think  it  probable ;  and  the  fact  will  ever  remain,  that  it  answers  com- 
pletely to  our  present  needs.  It  sustains  us,  up  to  the  last  point  of  pre- 
cision that  we  can  attain.  If  a  future  generation  should  reach  a  greater, 
and  feel,  in  consequence,  a  need  to  construct  a  new  law  of  gravitation,  it 
will  be  as  true  as  it  now  is,  that  the  Newtonian  theory  is,  in  the  midst  of 
inevitable  variations,  stable  enough  to  give  steadiness  and  confidence  to 
our  understandings."  —  Martiucau's  trans,  of  Comte's  Phil.  Vol.  I.  p.  184. 

14 


158  THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCT    OF   THE    DEIff. 

sense  "without  knowing  it?  To  say  that  gravitation  not  only 
accounts  for  the  present  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  but 
that,  on  an  easily  conceivable  theoiy,  it  may  be  niade  to  explain 
the  origin  of  these  Dwtions,  and  their  several  stages  of  progress, 
io  to  speak,  to  their  present  state  off  law,  is  the  same  thing  as 
to  say,  that  I  can  frame  a  hypothetical  history  of  an  imaginary 
universe,  all  the  phenomena  of  which,  and  all  the  supposed 
changes  in  the  law,  or  mode  cf  succession,  €>f  those  phenomena, 
tan  be  calculated  on  the  same  mathematical  principles ;  that  is, 
by  the  aid  of  the  same  postulates,  abstractions,  and  fictions, 
through  which  the  mathematician  deduces  by  exact  computation 
the  future  positions  of  the  real  heavenly  bodies  from  their  past 
states  and  revolutions ;  or  in  ether  words^  that  mathematical 
science  is  a  very  general  organon  of  calculation,  which  enables 
us  to  compute,  not  only  the  actual  motions  and  changes  of  the 
actual  universe,  but  the  imaginary  states  and  clianges  of  a  great 
number  of  fictitious,  but  easily  conceivable  worlds>  This  I  con^ 
ceive  to  be  the  exact  meaning  of  Herschel's  nebular  hypothesis^ 
and  Laplace's  theory  of  the  genesis  of  our  system  by  planets 
peeled  ofi"  frons  the  &»©.  Very  different,  amd  far  more  philo- 
sophical, was  the  view  of  gravitation  which  was  taken  by  that 
great  mind  which  first  conceived  the  theory,  and  verified  it  by 
application.  "  That  gravity,"  says  Sir  Isaac  Newton, '^should 
be  innate,  inherent,  and  essential  to  matter,  so  that  one  body 
may  act  upon  another  at  a  distance  through  a  v&ciiimty  without 
the  mediation  of  any  thing  else,  by  and  through  which  their 
action  and  force  may  be  conveyed  from  one  to  another,  is  to  me 
so  great  an  absurdity,  that  I  believe  no  man^  who  has  in  philo- 
sophical matters  a  competent  faculty  of  thinking,  can  ever  fall 
into  it.  Gravity  must  he  caused  hy  an  agent  acting  constantly 
according  to  certain  lawsJ^ 

Gravity  is  the  basis  of  mechanical  theories  of  the  universe.  -— 
I  have  detained  you  too  long,  perhaps,  with  speculations  respect- 
ing the  true  nature  of  the  chief  element  in  mechanical  and 
astronomical  calculations.  But  the  popular  conception  of  grav- 
ity seems  to  me  so  wholly  unlike  the  just  and  philosophical  view 
of  it,  and  the  part  assigned  to  it  in  atheistic  schemes  of  cosh 


THE   IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF   THE    DEITY.  159 

mogony  is  so  prominent,  and  at  the  same  time,  when  rightly 
considered,  so  unintelligible,  that  it  was  worth  while  making 
some  attempt  to  rise  to  a  clear  comprehension  of  the  subject. 
If  I  have  at  all  succeeded  in  this  explanation,  it  is  evident  that, 
in  regard  to  efficient  causation,  or  the  great  motive  power  of  the 
universe,  the  theory  of  gravitation,  with  all  the  calculations  and 
hypotheses  that  are  founded  on  it,  leaves  us  precisely  where  it 
found  u^ ;  it  accounts  for  nothing,  it  explains  the  origin  of 
nothing ;  it  is  a  simple  statement,  in  a  form  convenient  for 
scientific  purposes,  of  the  order  and  manner  in  which  certain 
phenomena  recur,  leaving  us  to  find  a  cause  for  those  phenom- 
ena where  we  may.  The  conclusion  remains  as  before,  that  this 
cause  can  be  nothing  but  personal  agency,  which  is  to  us  the 
only  known  source  of  power,  the  only  CEdipus  that  can  explain 
the  riddle  of  that  great  Sphinx,  the  universe.  Yet  the  phe- 
nomena ranged  under  this  class  are  so  clearly  distinguishable 
from  all  others,  they  are  so  simple  and  so  frequent  in  their 
recurrence,  that  they  suggest  very  forcibly  the  action  of  a 
machine  of  man's  device  ;  and  for  this  reason,  they  have  always 
been  the  chief  support  of  all  mechanical  theories  of  causation. 
Yet  a  moment's  reflection  might  satisfy  us,  that  as  in  a  machine, 
though  human  ingenuity  devised  it,  it  is  not  human  power  which 
keeps  it'  in  action,  but  rather  (to  use  the  common  metaphor)  the 
powers  of  nature,  such  as  the  weight  of  falling  water,  the  elas- 
ticity of  steel,  or  the  expansive  action  of  steam,  —  powers 
which  we  economize,  direct,  and  apply  to  use,  but  do  not 
create,  —  so  these  powers  of  nature  themselves  are  not  the 
source  of  the  energy  or  true  cause,  but  only  the  mode  in  which 
it  is  applied. 

Tendency  of  mechanical  calculations.  —  But  as  these  phe- 
nomena suggest  so  strongly  the  action  of  a  machine,  they  have 
been  the  chief  support  of  the  doctrine,  that  active  power  is  in 
some  way  inherent  in  matter ;  the  theory  of  gravitation  has  been 
the  starting-point  and  the  strong-hold  for  all  mechanical  theories 
of  the  universe.  If  the  often  quoted  remark,  that  "  the  undevout 
astronomer  is  mad,"  be  understood  to  mean  only  that  astronomy 
is  better  calculated  than  any  other  branch  of  physical  science  to 


160  THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY. 

lead  to  correct  views  of  the  providence  of  God,  I  may  be  per- 
mitted to  doubt  its  correctness.  The  vastness  of  the  objects 
contemplated,  and  the  sublimity  of  the  phenomena,  tend  forcibly, 
it  is  true,  to  lead  the  partially  instructed  mind  from  the  finite  up 
to  the  infinite ;  but  one  who  is  conversant  with  the  details  of 
the  science  is  apt  to  be  blinded  by  their  simplicity  and  uniform- 
ity, to  be  elated  by  his  seemingly  entire  knowledge  of  them, 
and  his  power  of  predicting  their  recurrence,  till  he  comes  to 
imagine,  that  vast  and  magnificent  as  creation  is,  it  is  but  a 
simple  affair  after  all,  —  that  the  theory  of  gravitation  unlocks 
the  whole  mystery  of  it,  and  places  the  secret,  not  only  of  the 
continuance  of  the  system,  but  of  its  origin  and  growth,  com- 
pletely within  the  grasp  of  the  human  intellect.  Newton  was  a 
believer,  as  minds  of  the  highest  order  always  will  be ;  but 
Laplace,  a  man  of  great  talent  rather  than  original  genius,  im- 
mersed all  his  life  in  mathematical  calculations,  and  inordinately 
vain  of  his  success  with  them,  doubted  or  denied ;  and  the  very 
title  of  his  great  work,  the  Mecanique  Celeste,  suggests  the  cause 
of  his  doubts.  He  thought  he  had  reduced  nature  to  a  vast 
piece  of  mechanism,  and  that  he  could  calculate  to  a  fraction  the 
strength  of  all  its  parts,  and  the  intensity  and  mode  of  action  of 
all  its  motive  forces.*     His  accurate  knowledge  of  the  details  of 

*  Since  the  passage  in  the  text  was  written,  Sir  William  Hamilton  has 
made  a  similar  observation.  In  the  last  edition  of  his  "Discussions,"  (page 
310,)  he  says,  "It  has  been  poetically  said,  'an  undevout  astronomer  is 
mad.'  This,  however,  if  poetical,  is  not  true.  For  if,  as  has  been  quaintly 
but  significantly  expressed,  'Nature  is  a  Hebrew  word  written  with  mere 
consonants,  to  which  philosophy  must  place  the  points,'  certainly  the  '  mechan- 
ism of  the  heavens '  itself  is  not  the  grammar  from  which  we  can  ever  learn 
'  to  syllable  the  stars.'  Historically,  a  larger  proportion  of  astronomers 
have  been  religious  skeptics,  in  the  last  and  worst  degree,  than  any  other 
class  even  of  mere  physical  observers." 

He  afterwards  quotes,  (page  312,)  as  an  illustration,  the  following  shal- 
low and  impious  remark  from  M.  Comte,  the  most  eminent  infidel  philos- 
opher among  the  mathematicians  of  the  present  day.  "  To  those  unfa- 
miliar with  a  study  of  the  celestial  bodies.  Astronomy  has  still  the  character 
of  being  a  science  preeminently  religious;  as  if  the  famous  text,  'The 
Heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God,'  retained  its  old  significance.  But  to 
minds  familiar  Avith  true  philosophical  astronomy,  the  heavens  declare  no 


THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY.  161 

astronomical  science,  in  which  tlie  universe  is  considered  only 
as  a  great  system  of  revolving  orbs  acting  on  each  other,  pre- 
vented him  from  taking  comprehensive  and  philosophical  views 
of  it  as  a  whole. 

lAmited  aims  of  astronomical  science.  —  One  reflection  alone 
might  have  convinced  him  of  the  boUowness  and  vanity  of  his 
pretensions.  Astronomy  is  a  very  finished  science  only  because 
it  is  very  limited  in  its  objects.  It  contemplates  nothing  but 
motions  and  positions.  Of  the  physical  constitution  even  of  the 
other  bodies  in  our  own  solar  system  we  are  profoundly  igno- 
rant ;  we  form  a  few  faint  guesses  about  the  irregularities  on  the 
surface  of  the  moon,  which  is  the  nearest  of  them,  and  here  we 
stop.  The  stellar  universe  is  to  us  only  a  grouping  of  points 
of  light,  seen  from  an  immeasurable  distance,  in  which  a  few 
slight  changes  of  relative  position  have  but  recently  been  dis- 
covered. Of  the  external  and  internal  economy  of  these  orbs, 
of  the  forms  which  organized  matter  there  assumes,  the  modes 
in  which  active  energy  develops  itself,  and  the  living  races,  if 
any,  which  tenant  them,  we  are  so  far  from  knowing  any  thing, 
that  we  do  not  pretend  even  to  study  them.  To  explain  the 
action  of  the  planets  and  stars  themselves,  merely  as  it  is  inves- 
tigated by  the  astronomer  and  the  mathematician,  —  that  is,  to 


other  glory  than  that  of  Hipparchus,  of  Kepler,  of  Newton,  —  in  a  word, 
of  all  those  who  have  aided  in  establishing  their  laws." 

To  this  poor  sophistry,  it  is  certainly  competent  for  us  to  reply,  as  we 
have  done  in  another  place,  that  the  grandeur  of  astronomical  science,  after 
all,  depends  far  more  on  the  sublimity  and  perfectness  of  the  objects  of 
study,  than  on  the  ability  and  success  with  which  they  have  been  studied. 
The  wonder  is,  not  so  much  that  man  should  be  able  to  foresee  the  return 
of  an  eclipse,  even  to  a  second  of  time,  as  that  the  arrangement  of  the  vast 
system  of  worlds  should  be  so  perfect,  and  their  mutual  action  and  de- 
pendence so  accurately  balanced,  that  the  two  bodies  should  return  from 
their  vast  jouniey  at  the  precise  moment,  and  to  the  previously  defined 
point  in  the  heavens.  M.  Comte  would  have  us  believe,  that  the  ingenuity 
of  a  person  who  should  ascertain,  after  long  study,  that  the  movement  of 
the  hands  on  the  face  of  a  clock  correctly  indicated  the  hour  of  the  day, 
was  greater  than  that  of  the  artisan  who  invented  and  constructed  the  in- 
strument. 

14* 


162  THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY. 

expound  a  theory  of  their  relative  motions  and  positions,  —  is  to 
lay  open  but  an  infinitesimal  part  of  the  secrets  of  the  celestial 
universe,  and  this  the  simplest  and  most  conceivable  part.  Our 
idea  of  the  mechanism  of  the  heavens  oomes  almost  immeasura- 
bly short  of  the  truth  of  things  ;  and  hence  our  notion  of  efficient 
cause,  or  active  power,  so  far  as  it  is  derived  only  from  this 
mechanism,  or  applied  only  to  an  explanation  of  it,  is  imperfect 
and  vain.  Notwithstanding  the  boasted  triumphs  of  science  in 
this  department,  the  philosophical  observer,  seeing  how  vastly 
the  subject  still  transcends  the  human  intellect,  instead  of  in- 
dulging the  vanity  of  Laplace,  will  say  rather,  with  the  Psalmist 
of  old :  — "  When  I  consider  the  heavens,  the  work  of  Thy 
fingers,  and  the  moon  and  stars  which  Thou  hast  ordained, 
what  is  man  that  Thou  art  mindful  of  him,  and  the  son  \)f  man 
that  Thou  visitest  him  ?  " 

The  same  reasoniyig  applied  to  the  phenomena  of  life.  — 
We  gain  a  clearer  idea  of  the  limitation  of  our  knowledge  in 
this  respect,  when  we  consider  the  second  class  of  phenomena 
to  which  I  proposed  to  direct  your  attention,  —  those,  namely, 
which  are  ascribed  to  life.  Here,  our  observation  is  at  once 
restricted  to  this  earth ;  and  the  lessons  which  it  teaches  us,  if 
deeply  pondered,  seem  even  more  profound  and  impressive  than 
those  offered  by  the  vast  scale  on  which  material  attraction  acts. 
Gravitation  is  the  simplest  and  most  regular  of  all  the  modes  in 
which  active  power  develops  itself,  while  life  is  the  most  com- 
plex and  varied.  The  two  classes  of  phenomena  ranged  under 
these  heads  are  thus  taken  from  opposite  ends  of  the  scale  ; 
which  is  the  reason  why  I  have  chosen  them  to  illustrate  the 
true  doctrine  of  causation,  instead  of  the  intermediate  classes, 
such  as  chemical  affinity,  and  the  imponderable  agents,  electricity, 
heat^  and  magnetism.  Whatever  is  established  as  to  the  nature 
of  the  power  exerted  in  these  two  classes,  will  very  readily  be 
admitted  of  all  the  ranks  and  divisions  which  lie  between  them. 
My  present  point  is  this,  —  that  if  the  simple,  regular,  and  fre- 
quently recurrent  phenomena  of  gravitation  cannot  be  explained 
on  the  hypothesis,  that  the  universe  is  a  machine,  a  clock  that 
was  wound  up  at  creation,  and  which  never  runs  down,  then, 


THE    IMMEDIATE    AOENCT    OF   THE    DEITY.  163 

for  a  still  stronger  reason,  the  myriad  forms  of  life,  the  infinitely- 
diversified  modes  iR  which  creative  and  sustaining  energy  here 
shows  itself,  are  not  mechanical,  but  personal  and  Divine.  If 
the  hypothesis,  that  brute  matter  is  necessarily  endowed  with  a 
native  and  inherent  activity,  is  utterly  insufficient  to  explain 
even  the  simple  fact,  that  all  particles  o£  that  matter  tend  to 
move  towards  each  other,  and  that  aggregations  of  those  par- 
ticles into  vast  orbs  uniformly  circle  round  each  other  at  im  - 
mense  distances  with  ceaseless  motion,  then,  surely,  the  same 
hypothesis  will  not  account  fc«*  the  mystery  of  life,  as  shown  by 
the  infinitely  diversified  motions  of  the  motes  which  people  a 
sunbeam,  or  of  the  animalcules  which  find  an  ocean  in  a  drop 
of  water,  or  of  the  vegetative  forms,  whie^li  cover  the  earth's 
surface  with  beauty,  and  minister  to  the  wants  of  man,  from  the 
tiniest  flower  up  to  the  grandeur  and  endurance  of  the  firm-set 
oak. 

Life  is  not  mechanism.  —  The  phenomena,  of  life  are  not 
mechanical;  the  incessant  motion,  the  countless  changes,  tlie 
perpetual  succession  of  birth,  growth,  decay,  and  dissolution, 
which  it  exhibits,  are  events  to  be  accounted  for ;  they  are 
effects,  and  the  only  sufficient,  or  even  conceivable,  cause  to 
which  they  can  be  assigned,  is  the  immediate  action  of  an  ever- 
present  and  omnipotent  God.  This  is  the  argument,  and  you 
will  observe  that  it  is  entirely  distinct  from  the  reasoning  from 
design,  or  final  cause.  This  second  form  of  proof  will  come  up 
afterwards ;  but  for  the  present,  I  put  it  entirely  aside.  I  do 
not  now  argue  from  the  peculiarities  of  certain  effects,  that  they 
must  have  been  intended  or  purposed ;  but  from  the  fact  that 
there  are  effects,  which  must  have  a  cause.  I  do  not  invite 
you  to  examine  the  artistic,  the  admirable  internal  structure  of 
some  form  of  vegetable  or  animal  life,  as  a  proof  that  intelli- 
gence, foresiglit,  and  benevolence  were  exerted  in  producing  it ; 
but  merely  to  remember  tliat  this  individual  structure  did  begin 
to  be ;  tliiit  its  existence  dates,  perhaps,  only  from  yesterday,  or 
from  the  last  hour  ;  that  there  is  a  constant  motion  and  change 
among  its  constituent  parts ;  and  these  various  beginnings  and 
movements  must  be  attributed  to  some  e^ffieient  cause,  which 


164  THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY. 

cannot  be  found  in  the  mere  insensate  atoms  of  which  the  plant 
or  animal  is  made  up,  but  must  be  sought  for  in  spirit,  or  per- 
son, the  only  known  source  of  power.  That  the  plant  began  to 
exist,  and  that  it  grows,  are  phenomena  to  be  accounted  for  in 
some  way,  just  as  much  as  the  curious  internal  arrangement  or 
organization  of  that  plant. 

Among  the  forms  of  mere  organic  life,  the  birth,  develop- 
jnent,  and  subsequent  changes  of  which  are  to  be  accounted  for 
by  a  cause  out  of  themselves,  I  rank  the  material  framework 
of  my  own  body,  and  those  merely  vital  movements  in  it  which 
are  not  dependent  on  my  own  \rill,  and  which,  consequently,  as 
has  been  already  proved,  are  truly  foreign  to  myself.  Here, 
then,  we  bring  the  only  two  kinds  of  efficient  or  personal  power 
with  which  we  are  acquainted,  —  namely,  the  human  and  the 
Divine,  —  as  it  were,  into  close  juxtajiosition  and  virtual  coopera- 
tion ;  and  thus  the  point  of  the  argument  appears  more  clearly. 
The  voluntary  movement  of  my  ami  and  hand  I  know  to  be 
dependent  on  myself;  I  am  conscious  of  willing  the  movement, 
and  am  conscious  of  making  an  eflFort,  or  exerting  my  own 
power,  to  that  end.  It  is  even  inconceivable  to  me,  that,  within 
the  ordinary  sphere  of  my  action,  they  should  move  without  my 
agency,  or,  in  other  words,  should  move  themselves.  Then  I 
say,  that  the  other  motions  in  that  arm  and  hand,  which  are  not 
voluntaryy  not  mine^  such  as  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  the  ex- 
cretions of  the  skin,  the  constant  flux  and  change  of  all  the 
material  particles  in  them,  must  also  be  attributed  to  a  cause 
out  of  themselves,  to  a  personal  agency  not  inherent  in  the 
arm  and  hand.  Even  the  skeptic  will  allow  me  to  say,  that  the 
hand  does  not  move  itself,  but  that  I  move  it ;  then  it  seems  to 
me  the  conclusion  is  inevitable,  that  the  Uood  does  not  move 
itself,  and  that  no  physical  cause,  or  mere  organization,  has  any 
thing  to  do  with  its  motion,  except  that  it  is  so  constituted  as  not 
to  interfere  with  it ;  but  in  this  case,  no  less  than  in  that  of  the 
planets  circling  round  the  sun,  the  mover  is  Divine. 

Why  the  phenomena  of  life  appear  mysterious.  —  Of  all  the 
mysteries  with  which  we  are  surrounded,  life  is  thought  to  be 
the  most  inscrutable.     The  reason  of  this  is,  that  it  cannot  evea 


THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY.  165 

be  conceived  of  as  mere  mechanism ;  it  refuses  to  be  subject  to 
the  ordinary  chemical  affinities,  to  computation  and  law.  There 
is  order  and  uniformity  in  its  manifestations,  but  it  is  an  order 
of  its  own,  and  one  which  appears  in  the  midst  of  infinite  variety. 
The  motions  of  fluids  under  its  influence  refuse  to  submit  to  the 
dynamic  principles  which  govern  the  movements  of  inorganic 
substances ;  the  processes  which  are  carried  on  within  its  sphere 
cannot  be  imitated  by  the  subtlest  refinements  of  chemistry. 
Endeavor  to  measure  and  calculate  its  action  by  the  aid  of 
what  are  considered  as  known  laws,  and  a  residuum  is  always 
left,  which  must  be  attributed  to  a  vital  force,  a  wholly  peculiar 
physical  cause,  of  which  we  know  nothing.  In  the  functions  of 
the  living  body,  it  may  be,  that  the  ordinary  laws  of  chemistry 
are  preserved,  and  that  the  elements  of  carbon,  oxygen,  hydro- 
gen, and  nitrogen  combine  and  separate  according  to  their 
ordinary  affinities,  and  in  no  unusual  proportions  ;  though  this 
point  does  not  seem  to  be  fully  proved.  But  after  death,  at  any 
rate,  quite  a  different  set  of  chemical  laws  come  into  play,  and 
produce  a  result  which  is  the  very  opposite  of  that  before 
effected.  There  is  no  longer  any  unanimity  or  cooperation ; 
instead  of  sustaining  or  building  up  the  animal  tissues,  the 
affinities  now  in  operation  tear  down,  destroy,  and  resolve 
them  into  their  ultimate  elements,  —  each  part  following  out  its 
own  law  of  destruction  or  resolution,  irrespectively  of  the  others. 
The  dejinitions  of  life  which  have  been  given  by  the  most 
eminent  physiologists,  show  very  clearly  their  conviction,  that 
the  vital  processes  are  neither  chemical  nor  mechanical,  but  that 
the  principle  on  which  they  depend  is  a  mystery  inscrutable  by 
the  human  intellect.  Thus,  life  has  been  defined  by  Stahl  to  be 
"  the  condition  by  which  a  body  resists  a  natural  tendency  1?o 
chemical  changes,  such  as  putrefaction."  Humboldt  says,  that 
living  bodies  are  "  those  which,  notwithstanding  the  constant 
operation  of  causes  tending  to  change  their  form,  are  hindered 
by  a  certain  inward  power  from  undergoing  such  change."  The 
definition  of  Kant,  who  looked  at  the  subject  more  as  a  meta- 
physician than  a  physiologist,  is  in  truth  no  definition  at  all ;  he 
Bays,  that  "  life  is  an  internal  faculty,  producing  change,  motion, 


166  THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY. 

and  action."  Bicliat's  definition,  that  "  life  is  the  sum  of  the 
functions  by  wliicli  death  is  resisted,"  only  introduces  a  correla- 
tive mystery  into  the  subject ;  and  as  the  latter  is  a  negative 
idea,  it  would  be  more  correct,  as  Mr.  Whewell  suggests,  to 
define  death  with  reference  to  Hfe,  as  its  cessation,  or  natural 
limit.  Schraid  defines  life  to  be  "  the  activity  of  matter,  accord- 
ing to  laws  of  organization  ; "  and  an  organized  body  is  said  by 
Kant  to  be  one  in  which  "  all  the  parts  are  mutually  ends  and 
means."  *  Organization,  then,  is  properly  the  condition  or  pre- 
requisite of  activity;  it  is  the  machine  w^ithout  the  moving 
power.     Life  is  something  —  we  know  not  what  —  which  keeps 


*  "  It  will  be  observed,  that  we  do  not  content  ourselves  with  saying, 
that,  in  such  a  whole,  all  the  parts  are  mutually  dependent.  This  might  be 
true  even  of  a  mechanical  stmcture  ;  it  would  be  easy  to  imagine  a  frame- 
work in  which  each  part  should  be  necessary  to  the  support  of  each  of  the 
others ;  for  example,  an  arch  of  several  stones.  But  in  such  a  structure, 
the  parts  have  no  properties  which  they  derive  from  the  whole.  They  are 
beams  or  stones  when  separate  ;  they  are  no  more  when  joined.  But  the 
same  is  not  the  case  in  an  organized  whole.  The  limb  of  an  animal, 
separated  from  the  body,  loses  the  properties  of  a  limb,  and  soon  ceases 
to  retain  even  its  form. 

"  Nor  do  we  content  ourselves  with  saying  that  the  parts  are  mutually 
causes  and  effects.  This  is  the  case  in  machinery.  In  a  clock,  the  pendulum, 
by  means  of  the  escapement,  causes  the  descent  of  the  weight,  the  weight 
by  the  same  escapement  keeps  up  the  motion  of  the  pendulum.  But 
things  of  this  kind  may  happen  by  accident.  Stones  slide  from  a  rock 
down  the  side  of  a  hill,  and  cause  it  to  be  smooth  ;  the  smoothness  of  the 
slope  causes  stones  still  to  slide.  Yet  no  one  would  call  such  a  slide  an 
organized  system.  The  system  is  organized,  when  the  effects  which  take 
place  among  the  parts  are  essential  to  our  conception  of  the  whole ;  when  the 
whole  would  not  be  a  whole,  nor  the  parts,  parts,  except  these  effects  were 
produced ;  when  the  effects  not  only  happen  in  fact,  but  are  included  in 
the  idea  of  the  object ;  when  they  are  not  only  seen,  but  foreseen ;  not 
only  expected,  but  intended  ;  in  short,  when,  instead  of  being  causes  and 
effects,  they  are  ends  and  means,  as  they  are  termed  in  [Kant's]  definition. 

"  Thus  we  necessarily  include,  in  our  Idea  of  Organization,  the  notion  of 
an  End,  a  Purpose,  a  Design ;  or,  to  use  another  phrase  which  has  been 
pecuUarly  appropriated  in  this  case,  a  Final  Cause.  This  idea  of  a  Final 
Cause  is  an  essential  condition  in  order  to  the  pursuing  our  researches 
respecting  organized  bodies."  —  Whewell's  Phil,  of  the  Ind.  Sciences,  2d 
ed.  Vol.  I.  p.  619. 


THE   IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF   THE   DEITY.  167 

the  machine  in  action,  and  at  the  same  time  preserves  it  from 
decay,  to  which  it  would  otherwise  be  subject  at  every  moment. 

Life,  then,  is  not  mere  organization,  though  most  materialists 
willingly  confound  the  two  things ;  to  hear  them  reason,  one 
would  almost  suppose  that  there  was  no  difference  between  a 
dead  animal  and  a  living  one.  Organization  is  subservient  to 
iife,  ministers  to  it,  manifests  it,  —  supports  it,  if  you  plefise,  — 
but  does  not  constitute  it.  Life  is  something  added  to  the  or- 
ganic structure,  a  new  power  in  action,  —  or  rather,  on  the  true 
theory,  a  new  and  wholly  peculiar  application  of  the  same  power, 
—  not  inherent  in  the  parts,  the  material  atoms,  nor  yet  in  the 
<!omplex  organism  which  is  made  up  of  those  atoms ;  not  com- 
pounded of  or  resulting  from  the  laws  of  action,  or  affinities,  of 
the  elements  of  the  body,  but  controlling,  overruling,  and  super- 
seding those  affinities,  which  come  into  play  again  only  when 
iife  departs. 

Iji/e  overrides  or  suspends  other  laws  of  action,  —  In  what- 
ever manner  we  contemplate  the  phenomena  of  life,  the  argu- 
ment seems  to  me  conclusive  in  favor  of  the  doctrine  of  immedi- 
ate Divine  agency.  If  chemical  action  is  mechanical  or  abso- 
lute, if  chemical  affinities  are  inherent  powers,  necessarily  be- 
longing to  the  atoms  in  which  they  usually  manifest  themselves, 
how  are  they  thus  suspended  for  a  season,  or  during  the  life  of 
the  animal,  and  then  made  again  to  operate  after  its  death? 
Such  intermittent  action  is  not  characteristic,  is  not  even  con- 
ceivable, of  a  primary  and  necessary  quality,  an  inherent  power ; 
we  cannot,  for  instance,  conceive  of  a  material  substance  as  ex- 
tended at  one  moment,  and  not  extended  the  next,  or  of  an  atom 
as  impenetrable  now,  and  not  impenetrable  an  instant  after- 
wards ;  (I  refer  now,  of  course,  to  absolute  impenetrability,  that 
quality  which  matter  is  conceived  to  possess  of  occupying  space, 
and  of  excluding  all  other  matter  from  the  space  so  occupied.) 
And  this  suspension  of  the  affinities  of  matter  cannot  be  ac- 
counted for  by  the  altered  circumstances  of  the  case.  An  ani- 
mal, for  example,  is  instantly  killed  by  a  blow  on  the  head  ; 
but  this  event  does  not  alter  the  mutual  position  and  relations 
to  each  other  of  the  material  particles  which  form  one  of  its 


168  THE   IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF   TUE    DEITT. 

limbs;  these  remain  undisturbed.  Yet  their  action  on  each 
other  instantly  changes,  from  one  that  contributed  to  sustain  and 
build  up  the  organism,  to  another  which  cames  it  by  a  swift 
process  to  dissolution.  It  is  no  answer  to  this  argument  to  re- 
mind me,  as  the  chemist  will  do,  of  the  allotropic  states  even  of 
inorganic  substances,  in  which  the  same  bodies  manifest  differ- 
ent qualities  at  successive  instants.  Tiiis  is  but  another  instance 
of  the  same  phenomenon,  not  an  explanation  of  the  phenomenon, 
or  an  assignment  of  its  cause,  whicli  is  admitted  to  be  inscru- 
table. My  point  is,  that  necessary  attributes,  inherent  powers, 
cannot  he  allotropic;  if  what  jou  call  the  action  of  the  particle 
changes,  this  is  a  proof  that  the  particle  is  not  acting,  but  is 
acted  upon.  Spinoza's  doctrine  teaches  us,  that  invariability 
mid  uniformity  are  the  characteristics  of  material  and  necessary 
action  ;  for  change,  choice,  difference,  we  must  go  up  to  the  free 
action  of  person  or  mind.  The  conclusion  is  inevitable,  then, 
that  these  chemical  affinities,  so  called,  are  the  results  of  will 
and  personal  power. 

The  7'esults  of  mechanical  action  are  'perfectly  uniform. — 
Again,  these  affinities,  I  say,  cannot  be  necessary  and  mechan- 
ical in  their  operation,  because  the  phenomena  of  life  do  not 
constantly  recur  upon  the  same  uniform  pattern  ;  they  are  not 
only  intermittent,  they  are  immeasurably  diversified.  The  life 
of  the  organized  mass  is  a  free  and  independent  power,  as  ap- 
pears from  the  infinite  variety  of  forms  that  it  assumes.  The 
affinities,  or  whatever  other  powers  we  suppose  to  inhere  in  the 
particles  by  themselves,  do  not  by  their  complication  and  mu- 
tual action  make  up  the  life,  or  give  rise  to  the  various  motions 
of  the  organism,  or  create  its  numberless  outward  aspects.  For 
the  results  of  necessary  and  mechanical  action  are  all  alike ; 
either  they  are  perfectly  similar  to  each  other,  or  they  change 
by  a  fixed  law  either  of  deterioration  or  improvement ;  while 
the  effects  of  power  controlled  by  freewill  and  witnessed  by 
consciousness  are  multiform,  variety  being  the  rule,  and  perfect 
resemblance  the  exception.  This  is  easily  illustrated  by  a 
comparison  of  human  labor  with  that  of  a  machine.  Of  any 
number  of  nails  made  by  hand,  no  two  are  just  alike,  while  the 


THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY.  16& 

nail-macliine  strikes  them  out  in  perfect  conformity  to  one  pat- 
tern ;  or  to  take  another  instance,  no  handwriting  even  ap- 
proaches the  uniformity  of  the  engraved  or  printed  letters  in 
many  successive  copies  of  the  same  words.  The  only  difference 
perceivable  in  the  former  case  is  a  regular  and  gradual  one,  as 
the  machine  or  the  types  slowly  wear  out.  Even  these  illus- 
trations do  not  give  an  adequate  idea  of  the  uniformity  here  in 
question,  as  the  machine  is  always  controlled  or  guided,  to  a 
certain  extent,  by  human  power,  and  is  in  itself  but  an  applica- 
tion and  direction  of  the  powers  of  nature,  so  called,  which  are 
really  personal  and  Divine.  Active  attributes,  necessarily  re- 
sulting from  the  essence  or  internal  constitution  of  the  thing, 
are  as  unchangeable  and  constant  in  their  operation  as  the  geo- 
metrical attributes  of  space,  the  immutable  and  everlasting 
relations  which  are  studied  by  the  mathematician ;  and  this  is 
precisely  the  view  of  the  universe,  of  natural  events,  which  is 
taken  by  the  logical  necessarian,  by  Fichte  and  Spinoza. 

The  results  of  life  are  infinitely  varied.  —  Consider,  then,  the 
infinite  variety  of  forms  and  aspects  which  living  nature  as- 
sumes, and  explain  these,  if  you  can,  on  the  hypothesis  that  the 
universe  is  a  machine.  Of  the  millions  of  leaves  which  make 
up  the  glorious  mass  of  foliage  on  a  large  oak  tree,  it  is  said,  I 
believe  with  truth,  that  no  two  can  be  found  exactly  alike  in 
outward  configuration.*  Of  all  the  faces  in  a  large  assemblage, 
or,  it  may  be  said,  even  in  the  population  of  a  city  or  a  country, 
not  one  is  the  exact  counterpart  of  another.     I  need  not  multi- 

*  •'  Leibnitz,"  says  De  Quincey,  "  when  walking  in  Kensington  Gardens 
with  the  Princess  of  Wales,  took  occasion,  from  the  beautiful  scene  about 
them,  to  explain  in  a  lively  way,  and  at  the  same  time  to  illustrate  and 
verify,  this  favorite  thesis,  [that  amongst  the  familiar  objects  of  our  daily 
experience,  there  is  no  perfect  identity.]  Turning  to  a  gentleman  in  at- 
tendance upon  her  Eoyal  Highness,  he  challenged  him  to  produce  two 
leaves  /rom  any  tree  or  sAru6,  which  should  be  exact  duplicates  or  fac-similes 
of  each  other  in  those  hnes  which  variegate  the  surface.  The  challenge 
was  accepted ;  but  the  result  justified  Leibnitz.  It  is,  in  fact,  upon  this 
infinite  variety,  in  the  superficial  lines  of  the  human  palm,  that  palmistry 
is  grounded,  (or  the  science  of  divination  by  the  hieroglyphics  written  ou 
each  man's  hand,)  and  has  its  pn'mayacie  justification," 

15 


170  THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF   THE    DEITY. 

ply  these  instances  of  the  unbounded  diversity  of  nature's  opera^ 
tions  in  life ;  every  one's  memory  will  supply  a  sufficient  num- 
ber of  them  for  the  purposes  of  this  argument.  The  differences 
alluded  to  are  not  those  merely  which  distinguish  races^  but 
those  which  mark  out  individuals,  separating  one  generation 
from  another,  and  giving  a  peculiar  character  to  each  of  the 
offspring  of  common  parents.  If  we  should  grant,  then,  that  the 
simple  and  uniform  effects  that  are  ascribed  to  gravitation,  or 
even  to  a  more  complex  cause,  chemical  affinity,  are  mechanical, 
the  theory  of  secondary  or  automatic  causation  wholly  fails  to 
account  for  the  multifarious  phenomena  of  life.  Unity  of  prin- 
ciple pervading  unmeasured  and  immeasurable  variety,  is  the 
character  of  the  physical  universe ;  the  necessarian  may  dream 
that  he  can  account  for  that  unity,  by  reducing  the  All  to  one 
unchangeable  substance  ;  but  the  variety  is  to  him  an  inexpli- 
plicable  mystery. 

Wherever  we  look  in  outward  nature,  then,  we  behold  proofs 
of  an  ever-present  and  ever-active  Deity.  Diversity,  change, 
motion,  activity,  all  ceaseless  and  endless,  show  that  power  is 
in  action  ;  and  this  power,  commensurate  with  ^he  extent  and 
coeval  with  the  duration  of  the  universe,  is  that  of  the  Infinite 
One.  The  sentiment  which  these  phenomena  inspire,  harmo- 
nizes with  the  lesson  which  they  teach  to  the  intellect,  and  with 
the  logical  deductions  of  the  understanding.  As  surely  as  our 
earth,  with  its  sister  orbs  and  companion  systems,  still  rolls  in  its 
appointed  path,  as  surely  as  seed-time  and  harvest,  night  and 
day,  return,  and  life,  in  countless  forms  and  untiring  action, 
peoples  every  clod  of  earth  and  every  drop  of  water,  so  surely 
God  liveth.* 


*  Besides  the  doctrine  maintained  in  this  chapter,  six  different  hypotheses 
have  been  propounded  at  various  times,  to  account  for  the  motions  and 
other  phenomena  of  the  material  universe.  I  borrow,  with  much  abridg- 
ment and  some  addition,  an  account  of  them  from  Dugald  Stewart. 

1 .  The  first  is  that  of  materialism,  according  to  which  the  phenomena  of 
nature  are  the  result  of  certain  active  powers  necessarily  inherent  in  mat- 
ter. In  its  pure  form,  this  is  an  atheistic  hypothesis  ;  and,  in  fact,  it  was 
the  earliest  doctrine  of  atheism,  having  been  taught  by  Democritus  about 


THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY.  171 

i50  B.  c.  It  was  also  the  leading  feature  of  the  Epicurean  philosophy. 
The  powers  which  are  inherent  in  matter,  and  which  have  existed  in  it  from 
all  eternity,  are  enough,  according  to  this  theory,  to  account  for  all  the 
phenomena  that  we  witness.  From  the  endless  multiplicity  of  atoms,  a 
fortuitous  concourse  of  them,  in  an  infinite  series  of  years,  may  assume  the 
appearance  of  regularity  and  adaptation ;  as  the  chance  of  order  is  at  least 
one  out  of  an  infinite  number  of  chances  of  disorder,  and  therefore  must 
occur  at  least  once  during  an  eternity.  The  groundwork  of  this  hypothesis 
is  struck  away  by  the  proof  which  has  been  offered,  that  power,  properly 
so  called,  cannot  even  be  conceived  of  as  an  attribute  of  brute  matter ;  that 
gravity,  in  particular,  cannot  be  predicated  of  matter  except  by  an  abuse 
of  words,  which  confounds  the  mode  of  action  with  the  cause  of  that  action  ; 
and  that  this  universe,  considered  as  an  organic  whole,  and  as  abounding 
Avith  organic  life,  is  not  of  indefinite  antiquity,  but  is  clearly  proved,  by 
geological  phenomena,  to  be  of  comparatively  recent  origin. 

2.  The  second  hypothesis  is  theistic,  but  in  nearly  every  other  respect, 
it  agrees  with  the  preceding  one,  and  it  is  open  to  the  same  objections.  Its 
doctrine  is,  that  the  phenomena  of  nature  result  from  certain  active  powers 
communicated  to  matter  at  its  first  formation.  Except  that  this  theory 
recognizes  a  creation  and  a  Creator,  it  does  not  account  for  the  phenom- 
ena any  better  than  pure  materialism ;  since  it  is  just  as  difficult  to  conceive 
of  gravity  as  a  property  of  matter,  whether  matter  was  first  endowed  with 
this  property  many  ages  ago,  or  always  possessed  it.  It  is  inconceivable 
that  matter  should  act  upon  matter  which  is  millions  of  miles  distant  from 
it,  whether  this  power  of  acting  is  inherent  in  it,  or  was  first  imparted  to  it 
at  the  creation ;  in  either  case,  we  have  to  meet  the  difficulty  —  the  contra- 
diction—  that  something  should  act  where  it  is  not;  in  other  words,  that  it 
should  be  where  it  is  not. 

3.  The  third  hypothesis  is  the  common  one,  which  ascribes  the  phenom- 
ena of  nature  to  certain  general  laws  eftablished  by  the  Deity.  We  have 
sufficiently  proved  that  this  theory  is  founded  upon  a  mere  abuse  of  words, 
so  that  the  proper  objection  to  it  is,  not  that  it  is  false,  but  that  it  is  mean- 
ingless. General  laws  are  merely  a  classification  and  description  of  the 
phenomena  which  are  to  be  accounted  for ;  they  offer  no  explanation  of 
these  phenomen"*,  and  throw  no  light  whatever  upon  their  efficient  causes. 
The  very  purpose  of  the  hypotheses  with  which  we  are  now  concerned,  is 
to  account  for  efficient  causation. 

4.  A  fourth  supposition  is  that  of  Dr.  Cudworth,  who  ascribes  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  material  world  to  what  he  calls  a  plastic  or  formative  nature, 
or  (according  to  his  own  definition  of  it)  to  "a  vital  and  spiritual,  but  unin- 
telligent and  necessary  agent,  created  by  the  Deity  for  the  execution  of  his 
purposes."  This  mysterious  and  fanciful  doctrine  seems  to  be  rather  a 
play  of  the  imagination  than  a  product  of  the  intellect.  We  can  hardly 
believe  that  it  was  propounded  seriously.  Perceiving  the  absurdity  of  the 
hypothesis,  that  the  Creator  endowed  brute  matter  with  active  properties 


172  THE    IMMEDIATE    AGENCY    OF    THE    DEITY. 

Dr.  Ciidwortli  preferred  to  imajrinc  that  lie  first  animated  it  with  an  indis- 
tinct living  prineiple,  —  a  sort  of  half-life,  —  so  that  it  became  more  plastic 
to  His  hands,  and  more  obedient  to  His  behest,  than  it  would  have  been  in 
its  original  inert  and  ])assive  state.  The  supposition  is  an  unnecessary 
one,  as  Omnipotence  needs  no  such  aid  in  executing  its  purposes  ;  and  as 
it  is  defended  by  neither  argument  nor  analogy,  it  may  be  rejected  as  a 
mere  dream. 

5.  Dissatisfied  with  all  these  doctrines,  Lord  Monboddo  attempted  to 
revive  what  he  calls  the  ancient  theory  of  mind.  Every  particle  of  matter  he 
supposes  to  be  animated  with  ditferent  minds.  Thus,  there  is  one,  which 
lie  calls  the  elemental  mind,  that  is  the  source  of  the  cohesion  of  bodies  ; 
another  is  the  cause  of  their  gravitation  ;  and  so  on.  Even  in  the  case  of 
the  motion  that  follows  impulse,  he  holds  that  the  impulse  is  only  the  orxa- 
sion  of  the  motion ;  the  continuance  of  the  motion  is  attributable  to  a  mind 
excited  by  the  impulse,  because  continued  motion  implies  continued  activ- 
ity. Thus,  also,  the  planets  are  endowed  with  minds  which  guide  and 
impel  them  in  their  revolutions  round  the  sun;  only  these  planetary  minds 
are  void  of  intelligence,  being  mere  principles  of  activity.  This  theory  is 
open  to  the  same  objection  as  the  former  one,  that  it  is  a  mere  di-eam,  un- 
supported even  by  probability.  But  both  are  instructive  as  showing  the 
difficulty  of  conceiving  principles  to  be  inherent  in  matter  which  would 
account  for  its  phenomena ;  the  agency  of  mind  must,  somehow,  be  called 
in. 

6.  The  last  supposition  is  that  of  the  philosophers  who  maintain  that  the 
universe  is  a  machine  formed  and  put  in  motion  by  the  Deity.  In  this 
hypothesis,  Descartes  and  Leibnitz  agreed,  notwithstanding  the  wide  diver- 
sity of  their  systems  in  other  respects.  But  a  machine  needs  a  continuous 
motive  power;  it  needs  the  expansive  force  of  steam,  the  weight  of  falling 
water,  the  elasticity  of  steel,  or  some  other  force ;  and  if  this  be  intermitted, 
the  action  stops.  A  machine  is  ¥iot  a  contrivance  for  creating  power,  but 
only  for  using  it,  — for  applying  it  in  one  direction  or  another,  or  to  one  or 
another  purpose.  Now,  it  has  been  shown  that  matter  has  no  force  of  its 
own.  "What,  then,  keeps  the  machine  of  the  universe  in  action  1  It  must 
be  the  continuous  and  immediate  action  of  the  Deity ;  and  this  is  the  very 
theory  of  immediate  divine  agency  which  we  advocate,  except  that  we 
throw  away  the  idle  and  baseless  hypothesis,  that  Omnipotence  works 
through  machinery,  instead  of  accomplishing  its  purposes  directly  and  at 
once. 


THE    PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  173 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

INFERENCES    FROM    THE    GENERAL    CHARACTER    OP   THE   PHE- 
NOMENA   OF    THE    PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE. 

Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  In  the  last  chapter,  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  physical  universe,  so  far  as  they  show  change, 
diversity^  and  activity,  which  are  not  attributable  to  human 
power  and  will,  were  held  to  prove  the  immediate  and  omni- 
present action  of  the  Deity.  The  argument  was,  that  these 
phenomena  afford  incontestable  evidence  of  power  exerted,  or 
efficient  causation,  and  there  is  no  source  of  such  power  within 
our  knowledge,  and  none,  in  fact,  that  is  conceivable,  except  in 
versonal  agency  ;  and  in  this  case,  the  power  being  commensu- 
rate with  the  extent  and  duration  of  all  things,  it  must  be  as- 
cribed to  the  Infinite  Creator.  This  reasoning  was  carried  out 
in  reference  to  two  of  the  most  comprehensive  classes  of  such 
events,  —  those,  namely,  which  are  ascribed  to  gravitation  and 
to  life  ;  the  phenomena  under  the  former  head  being  the  most 
simple,  uniform,  and  frequent  in  their  occurrence,  while  those 
coming  under  the  latter  are  most  complex,  varied,  and  multiform ; 
so  that  any  conclusion  established  respecting  both  these  classes 
must  hold  true  of  all  intermediate  ones. 

In  regard  to  the  former,  it  was  shown  that  what  are  called 
forces  in  mechanical  science,  are  only  metaphorical  expressions 
for  the  mode  or  order  in  which  certain  events  succeed  each 
other,  or  are  mere  fictions  for  the  convenience  of  the  mathema- 
tician, like  the  abstractions  and  hypotheses  with  which  the  ge- 
ometer begins  his  work  ;  both  attraction  and  the  tangential  force 
being,  in  fact,  as  imaginary  as  the  eccentrics  and  epicycles  of 
Hipparchus  and  Ptolemy.  In  regard  to  the  latter,  the  phe- 
nomena of  life,  they  were  shown  to  be  inexphcable  and  incon- 
ceivable as  effects  of  mechanism,  such  effects  being  necessarily 

15* 


174  THE  GENERAL  CHARACTER 

uniform  ami  perfectly  similar  to  each  other,  or  changing  only 
by  a  regular  law  of  deterioration  or  improvement;  while  the 
numberless  aspects,  and  infinite  variations  of  the  activity,  of 
living  things,  point  for  their  cause  to  the  free  volitions  of  a  con- 
scious agent 

This  form  of  argument  for  the  being  of  a  God,  it  was  ob- 
served, though  not  so  familiar  to  common  minds  as  the  proof 
from  design,  —  for  indeed,  it  is  not  fully  stated  in  any  work  on 
Natural  Theology  with  which  I  am  acquainted,  —  is  still  legiti- 
mate and  conclusive ;  and  it  has  this  great  advantage,  that  from 
it  we  infer  immediately  his  present  existence,  instead  of  estab- 
lishing this  point  by  a  subsequent  process  of  reasoning.  The 
conclusion  to  which  it  leads  harmonizes  with  the  natural  turn  oi 
rehgious  sentiment,  or  devotion,  by  referring  all  events  to  Divine 
agency ;  and  thus  we  avoid  the  common  objection  to  the  doc- 
trine of  an  overruling  and  ever-watcliful  Providence. 

Hume's  objection  to  the  argument  from  effect  to  cause.  —  A 
further  advantage  of  this  reasoning  is,  that  it  is  not  exposed  to 
the  objection  urged  by  Hume,  on  the  ground  that  the  universe 
is  a  singvlar  effect.  The  way  is  paved  for  this  sopliism  by  put- 
ting into  the  mouth  of  Cleanthes,  the  character  in  the  Dialogues 
concerning  Natural  Religion  who  plays  the  part  of  a  rational 
and  consistent  theist,  a  distinct  avowal  of  the  mechanical  theory 
of  nature.  "Look  round  the  world,"  say^  Cleanthes;  "con- 
template the  whole  and  every  part  of  it.  You  will  find  it  to  be 
nothing  but  one  great  machine,  subdivided  into  an  infinite  num- 
ber of  lesser  machines,  which  again  admit  of  subdivisions  to  a 
degree  beyond  what  human  senses  and  faculties  can  trace  and 
explain."  These  words,  though  uttered  by  an  imaginary  speak- 
er, convey,  I  have  no  doubt,  Hume's  own  opinion ;  and  they 
certainly  leave  the  door  open  for -the  objection  that  is  instantly 
made  by  Philo,  who  supports  the  character  and  cause  of  the 
atheist. 

"When  two  species  of  objects,"  says  Philo,  "have  always 
been  observed  to  be  conjoined  together,  I  can  infer,  by  custom, 
the  existence  of  one  wherever  I  see  the  existence  of  the  other ; 
and  this  I  call  an  argument  from  experience.     But  how  this 


OF    THE    PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  175 

argument  can  have  a  place,  where  the  objects,  as  in  the  present 
case,  are  single,  individual,  without  parallel  or  specific  resem- 
blance, may  be  difficult  to  explain.  And  will  any  man  tell  me, 
with  a  serious  countenance,  that  an  orderly  universe  must  arise 
from  some  thought  and  art  like  ike  human,.  heca,use  we  have 
experience  of  it  ?  To  ascertain  this  reasoning,  it  were  requisite 
that  we  had  experience  of  the  origin  of  worlds ;  and  it  is  not 
sufficient,  surely,  that  we  have  seen  ships  and  cities  arise  from 
human  art  and  contrivance.  Can  you  pretend  to  show  any 
similarity  between  the  fabric  of  a  house  and  the  generation  of  a 
universe  ?  Have  you  ever  seen  nature  in  any  such  situation  as 
resembles  the  first  arrangement  of  the'  elements  ?  Have  worlds 
ever  been  formed  under  your  eye  ?  and  have  you  had  leisure  to 
observe  the  whole  progress  of  the  phenomenon,  from  the  first 
appearance  of  order  to  i-ts  final  consummation  ?  If  you  have, 
then  cite  your  experience,  and  deliver  your  theory." 

This  ohjectio7i  confuted.  —  Now  I  might  answer  this  sophistry 
at  once,  by  saying,  that  although  I  have  not  witnessed  the  fabri- 
cation of  a  universe,  I  have  watched  the  growth  of  a  plant,  from 
the  first  germination  of  the  seed  to  the  perfection  of  the  blossom  ; 
and  though  I  have  had  no  personal  experience  of  the  origin  of 
worlds,  I  yet  know,  whether  from  reason  or  the  testimony  of 
others,  a  fact  that  Philo  himself  will  not  deny,  that  this  my  body, 
the  material  apparatus  of  limbs  and  organs  in  which  I  live  and 
move,  did  begin  to  be ;  and  of  all  its  subsequent  changes,  its 
growth  up  to  its  present  state,  I  have  had  the  most  intimate 
experience.  But  the  admission  or  assertion  of  Cleanthes,  that 
the  universe  is  07ie  great  machine,  seemingly  bars  out  this  reply, 
by  leading  us  to  infer  that  the  preexisting  machinery  in  the 
parent  plant  or  blossom  produced  the  seed,  the  future  develop- 
ment and  growth  of  which  ar^  but  the  subsequent  action  of  the 
same  machinery ;  so  that  all  which  I  have  actually  witnessed  or 
experienced,  is  not  the  origin  or  beginning,  but  the  continuance, 
of  things. 

How  obvious  is  the  rejoinder,  that  this  phrase,  the  imiverse,  is 
a  mere  general  expression  for  the  totality  of  things,  having  only 
an  ideal  and  fictitious  unity,  and  being,  in  truth,  nothing  but  an 


176  THE  GENERAL  CHARACTER 

abstract  conception  !  To  recur  to  a  former  illustration,  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  an  audience,  apart  from  the  individual  men  and 
women  wlio  compose  it.  Let  us  not  be  blinded  by  mere  words. 
Individual  things  are  the  only  objects  which  really  exist ;  as  we 
profess  here  to  argue  only  from  facts,  let  us  not  confuse  these 
with  mere  abstractions  and  generalities.  To  talk  about  explain- 
ing the  origin  of  a  universe,  except  this  be  understood  to  mean 
the  accounting  in  succession  for  each  of  the  real  existences  ' 
which  make  up  a  universe,  is  to  deal  in  nonsense ;  it  is  as  if, 
after  explaining  in  due  order  the  motives  which  brought  each 
of  the  hearers  together,  I  should  still  be  required  to  account  for 
the  general  fact,  that  there  was  an  audience  assembled.  And 
this  remark  applies,  be  it  observed,  not  only  to  the  diiFerent  in- 
dividuals who  at  any  one  moment  make  up  a  sum  total,  or  class, 
but  to  the  other  individuals  who  occupied  the  same  spot  before 
these  began  to  be,  and  to  others  still,  who  shall  fill  their  places 
after  these  cease  to  exist.  The  unity  which  is  attributed  by  the 
mind,  for  the  mere  convenience  of  conception  and  speech,  both 
to  successive  and  contemporaneous  individuals,  is  ahke  ideal 
and  fictitious. 

Individual  things  cannot  have  been  created  by  machinery.  — 
Let  us  see,  then,  whether  this  hypothesis  of  machinery,  as  the 
secret  of  the  creation,  not  of  a  universe,  but  of  individual  things 
or  real  existences,  is  any  thing  more  than  a  blank  assumption. 
Suppose  that  two  grains  of  sand,  looking  just  alike,  were  placed 
on  the  floor  before  us,  and,  while  we  were  watching  them,  they 
should  begin  to  expand,  shoot  up,  alter  their  forms,  take  all  the 
aspects  and  qualities  of  life,  and  finally  become  distinct  and  re- 
cognizable, the  one  as  a  giant  oak  tree,  and  the  other  as  a  living 
and  moving  creature.  On  witnessing  so  strange  a  phenomenon, 
we  could  not  help  concluding  that  some  personal  agency  had 
produced  it,  some  power  transcending  that  of  man ;  after  satis- 
fying ourselves  that  there  was  no  deception  or  mystification  in 
the  matter,  we  should  at  once  refer  it  to  a  supernatural  or  mi- 
raculous cause.  Nor  would  this  conclusion  be  at  all  less  logical, 
if  the  phenomenon  were  2i  frequent  one,  —  if  there  were  a  moun- 
tain of  such  sand,  from  which  particular  grains  being  taken  at 


OF    THE    rilYSTCAL    UNIVERSE.  177 

tlje  proper  seasjon  and  carried  to  the  proper  place,  both  time 
and  place  being  determined  by  experience,  these  results  invari- 
ably followed. 

Now,  this  is  a  statement  but  very  little  disguised,  and  varying 
in  no  essential  particular,  from  the  description  of  what  is  actually 
and  constantly  taking  place  all  around  us,  in  living  nature.  The 
beginning  of  all  life,  and  of  all  tissues,  whether  animal  or  vege- 
table, is  in  certain  primitive  cells,  or  germinal  vesicles,  perfectly 
resembling  each  other  in  external  appearance,  and  so  minute, 
that  they  can  be  discerned  only  under  high  powers  of  the  micro- 
scope. The  germs  are  alike  to  the  eye ;  but  according  to  the 
place  which  each  is  taken  from,  whether  from  one  side  or 
another  of  the  sand  heap,  it  is  developed  by  a  regular  process 
into  a  plant  or  an  animal.  If  you  say  that  there  are  specific 
differences  between  these  microscopic  grains,  each  one  veil- 
ing some  curious  and  elaborate  machinery,  peculiar  to  itself, 
by  which  this  astonishing  result  is  brought  about,  I  answer,  that 
your  assertion  is  both  gratuitous  and  incredible.  It  is  gratui- 
tous ;  for  certainly  we  see  no  such  machinery,  and  have  no  indi- 
cation whatever  of  its  existence;  we  see  nothing  but  a  little 
rectangular  or  circular  cell,  with  a  dot  in  it.  It  is  incredible  ; 
for  we  can  no  more  conceive  of  the  possibility  of  a  machine 
under  such  circumstances  producing  such  results,  than  we  can 
believe  that  the  automaton  really  plays  an  admirable  game  of 
chess  solely  by  the  means  of  wheels,  springs,  and  cylinders.  In 
both  cases,  we  declare  with  positive  conviction,  that  intelligence, 
will,  and  conscious  activity  are  somewhere  at  work  in  this  mat- 
ter, that  some  unseen  person  is  actually  causing  the  phenomenon. 
"  If  an  animal  or  a  vegetable,"  says  Dugald  Stewart,  "  were 
brought  into  being  before  our  eyes,  in  an  instaiit  of  time, —  the 
event  would  not  be  in  itself  more  wonderful  than  their  slow 
growth  to  maturity  from  an  embryo  or  from  a  seed.  But  on 
the  former  supposition,  there  is  no  man  who  would  not  perceive 
and  acknowledge  the  immediate  agency  of  an  intelligent  cause ; 
whereas,  according  to  the  actual  order  of  things,  the  effect  steals 
so  insensibly  on  the  observation,  that  it  excites  little  or  no  curi- 
osity, excepting  in  those  who  possess  a  sufficient  degree  of  re- 


178  THE  GENERAL  CHARACTER 

flection  to  contrast  the  present  state  of  the  objects  around  them 
with  their  first  origin,  and  with  the  progressive  stages  of  their 
existence."  Look  at  the  animal  when  fully  grown,  moving 
about  and  performing  all  the  functions  of  life,  and  then  beheve, 
if  you  can,  that  this  creature,  in  all  its  parts  and  powers,  is  the 
necessary  result  of  machinery  and  active  energy  that  are  unde- 
rived  and  naturally  inherent  in  that  microscopic  cell,  that  mere 
grain  of  sand.  Look,  further,  into  your  own  consciousness,  — 
for  you,  too,  upon  this  hypothesis,  were  born  from  the  dust,  — 
and  conceive  of  all  your  powers  of  mind  and  heart,  your  rea- 
soning, imaginative,  and  moral  faculties,  as  the  mere  product  of 
machinery  in  an  infinitesimal  germ.  The  part  of  the  infidel 
here  is  really  that  of  outrageous  credulity.* 


*  "  The  minds  of  most  men  are  fond  of  what  they  call  a  principle,  and 
of  the  appearance  of  simplicity  in  accounting  for  phenomena.  Yet  this 
principle,  this  simplicity,  resides  merely  in  the  name ;  which  name,  after  all, 
comprises,  perhaps,  under  it  a  diversified,  multifarious,  or  progressive 
operation,  distinguishable  into  parts.  The  power  in  organized  bodies,  of 
producing  bodies  lil^e  themselves,  is  one  of  these  principles.  Give  a  philos- 
opher this,  and  he  can  get  on.  But  he  does  not  reflect  what  this  mode  of 
production,  this  principle  (if  such  he  chooses  to  call  it,)  requires;  how 
much  it  presupposes ;  what  an  apparatus  of  instruments,  some  of  which 
are  strictly  mechanical,  is  necessary  to  its  success ;  what  a  train  it  includes 
of  operations  and  changes,  one  succeeding  another,  one  related  to  another, 
one  ministering  to  another ;  all  advancing,  by  intermediate,  and  frequently 
by  sensible  steps,  to  their  ultimate  result !  Yet  because  the  whole  of  this 
complicated  action  is  wrapped  up  in  a  single  term,  generation,  we  are  to 
set  it  down  as  an  elementary  principle ;  and  to  suppose,  that  when  avc 
have  resolved  the  things  which  we  see  into  this  principle,  we  have  suffi- 
ciently accounted  for  their  origin,  without  the  necessity  of  a  designing, 
intelligent  Creator.  The  truth  is,  generation  is  not  a  principle,  but  a  pro- 
cess. We  might  as  well  call  the  casting  of  metals  a  principle ;  we  might, 
so  far  as  appears  to  me,  as  well  call  spinning  and  weaving,  principles ;  and 
then,  referring  the  texture  of  cloths,  the  fabric  of  muslins  and  calicoes,  the 
patterns  of  diapers  and  damasks,  to  these,  as  principles,  pretend  to  dis- 
pense with  intention,  thought,  and  contrivance,  on  the  part  of  the  artist ; 
or  to  dispense,  indeed,  with  the  necessity  of  any  artist  at  all,  either  in  the 
manufacturing  of  the  article,  or  in  the  fabrication  of  the  machinery  by 
which  the  manufacture  was  carried  on."  —  Paley's  Natural  Theology,  Ch. 
vxiii. 


OF    THE    PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  179 

The  frequency  of  the  'phenomenon  does  not  make  it  less  mirax:- 
idous.  —  I  say  further,  that  the  theological  conclusion  here  is  so 
obvious  and  reasonable,  that  all  mankind  would  instantly  adopt 
it  without  hesitation,  just  -as  they  do  an  intuitive  truth,  if  it 
were  not  for  our  familiarity  witl>  such  results,  arising  from  their 
countless  number  and  constant  repetition.  One  such  birth,  inter- 
rupting the  uniformity  of  living  nature,  otherwise  made  up,  so 
far  as  our  knowledge  extended,  of  beings  without  beginning  or 
end,  would  instantly  convert  all  men  to  a  recognition  of  invisible 
power  that  is  personal  and  Divine.  But  the  frequency  of  the 
phenomenon  wears  out  our  wonder ;  what  is  not  strange,  we 
refuse  to  consider  as  miraculous ;  we  look  upon  it  mechanically, 
and  so  come  to  regard  it  as  a  mechanical  efiect.*  But  can  any 
thing  be  more  illogical  or  unreasonable,  than  to  alter  our  conclu- 
sion solely  because  the  evidence  is  multiplied  on  which  it  rests  ? 
Shall  one  birth,  one  beginning  of  living  existence,  prove  the 
being  of  a  Creator,  and  not  a  thousand  ?  Yet  this  is  the  whole 
of  the  atheistic  argument :  —  the  phenomena  of  nature  are  con- 
stantly repeated,  therefore  the  universe  is  a  machine  ;  and.  not 
only  so,  but  a  machine  that  made  itself,  or  has  existed  from 
eternity. 

I  have  departed  here,  in  some  degree,  you  will  perceive,  from 
the  strict  argument  from  the  effect  up  to  the  cause,  by  entering 
into  some  details  respecting  the  peculiar  character  of  certain 
effects  as  distinguished  from  others,  so  that  the  reasoning  does 
not  depend,  as  before,  exclusively  on  the  mere  manifestation  of 
power.  This  is  taking  a  step  towards  the  argument  from  de- 
sign, a  mode  of  proof  which  seems  more  conclusive  to  most  per- 
sons than  any  other,  on  account  of  its  plainness,  the  numberless 
illustrations  or  confirmations  of  it,  and  the  very  direct  evidence 
which  it  offers  of  the  personality  of  the  Deity. 

How  the  existence  of  a  personal  cause  is  indicated,  —  It  is  a 


*  "  Sed  assiduitate  quotidiana,  et  consuetudine  oculomin,  assuescunt 
animi;  neque  admirantnr,  neque  requirunt  rationes  eamm  rerum  quas 
semper  vident ;  perinde  quasi  novitas  nos  magis  quam  magnitudo  rerum 
debeat  ad  exquirendas  causas  excitare."  —  Cicero,  de  Nat.  Deor.  U.  38, 


180  TIIK    GF.NKRAL    CHARACTER 

step  further  in  the  same  direction  to  remark,  that  the  diiferent 
modes  in  which  Divine  power  is  here  manifested,  on  the  theory 
of  immcHliate  creative  and  sustaining  energy,  are  just  such  as 
we  miglit  expect  from  infinite  power,  wisdom,  and  beneficence 
combined  in  one  person,  and  everted  with  entire  freedom  of  will, 
—  exerted  also,  I  may  now  say,  with  reference  to  the  moral 
government  of 'intelligent  finite  beings,  like  ourselves.  We 
should  expect  (1.)  constancy  in  the  regular  attainment  of  certain 
great  ends,  and  perfect  uniformity  in  the  modes  of  obtaining 
them ;  together  with  (2.)  infinite  variety  in  what  may  be  called 
the  details  of  creation.  The  former,  the  general  laws,  we  find  in 
the  great  recurrent  phenomena  of  the  universe,  in  the  laws  of 
gravitation,  heat,  light,  magnetism,  chemical  affinity,  and  the  like  ; 
the  latter,  the  variety,  we  find  in  the  countless  differences  which 
distinguish  all  living  forms  from  each  other,  and  diversify  to  an 
immeasurable  extent  all  the  relations  of  life.  With  the  general 
laws  we  are  sufficiently  acquainted,  as  it  is  the  peculiar  office  of 
science  to  study  them,  since  they  alone  serve  to  guide  the  con- 
duct of  free  and  intelligent  beings,  and  give  all  its  value  to 
experience.  Because  the  physical  inquirer  is  so  exclusively 
occupied  with  these,  he  comes  gradually  to  overlook  the  endless 
diversity  of  form  and  aspect  under  which  they  are  manifested  ; 
he  sees  everywhere  the  action  of  law,  and  the  phenomena  of 
nature  appear  to  him  regularly  recurrent  and  mechanical.  The 
botanist,  for  instance,  studies  only  the  specific  differences  of 
plants,  disregarding  the  minute  varieties  of  shape  and  hue  which 
distinguish  any  two  flowers  of  the  same  species  from  each  other, 
and  even  the  occasional  freaks  of  nature,  the  metamorphosis  of 
organs,  the  production  of  a  leafy  branch  from  the  centre  of  a 
flower,'-or  of  one  flower  out  of  another ;  or  if  he  considers  these 
abnormal  growths  at  all,  it  is  in  a  vain  attempt  to  reduce  them 
to  the  dominion  of  law,  by  virtue  of  a  theory  which  represents 
the  universe  as  incomplete,  as  an  idea  not  yet  realized,  a  plan 
not  fully  carried  out.  My  point  here  is  simply,  that  these  count' 
less  diversities  of  nature,  which  are  not  studied  solely  because 
they  are  countless,  are  as  much  a  part  of  creation,  a  part,  so  to 
speak,  of  the  Divine  plan,  as  the  general  laws  themselves.     The 


OF   THE    PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  181 

filaments  of  order  run  in  every  direction  through  the  web  of  the 
universe ;  but  they  can  be  discerned  only  under  the  surface- 
pattern,  which  combines  all  possible  modifications  of  outline  and 
coloring  in  measureless  profusion.* 

MarCs  conduct  shows  uniformity  united  with  endless  variety.  — 
I  say,  this  regularity  in  the  midst  of  diversity  is  precisely  what 
we  should  expect  from  the  action  of  a  free  and  intelligent 
agent ;  the  order  manifests  intelligence,  the  variety  bears  witness 
to  freedom.  For  consider  the  actions  of  a  finite  conscious 
being,  who  is  a  feeble  representative,  it  is  true,  but  the  only 
representative  that  we  have,  of  Deity,  in  so  far  as  he  unites 
power  with  intellect  and  freewill.  So  far  as  the  great  aims 
and  purposes  of  life  are  concerned,  according  as  these  are  deter- 
mined by  appetite,  self-love,  habit,  or  the  moral  sense,  the  con- 
duct of  man  is  consistent  and  uniform,  and  you  may  safely 
predict  the  future  from  the  past.  We  may  even  foresee  the 
results  of  the  combined  free  activity  of  great  masses  of  men, 
from  the  known  motives  and  the  comparative  strength  of  difier- 


*  "  Peu  de  principes,  de  grands  moyens  en  petit  nombre,  des  phenom- 
enes  infinis  ct  varies,  voila  le  tableau  de  I'univers."  —  Baily,  Hist,  de 
V  Astmnotnie. 

"  Nature,"  says  Cuvier,  "  while  confining  herself  strictly  within  those 
limits  which  the  conditions  necessary  for  existence  prescribed  to  her,  has 
yielded  to  her  spontaneous  fecundity  wherever  these  conditions  did  not 
limit  her  operations  ;  and  without  ever  passing  beyond  the  small  number 
of  combinations,  that  can  be  realized  in  the  essential  modifications  of  the 
important  organs,  she  seems  to  have  given  full  scope  to  her  fancy,  in 
filling-  up  the  subordinate  parts.  With  respect  to  these,  it  is  not  inquired, 
whether  an  individual  form,  whether  a  particular  arrangement,  be  neces- 
sary ;  it  seems  often  not  to  have  been  asked,  whether  it  be  even  useful,  in 
order  to  reduce  it  to  practice  ;  it  is  sufficient  that  it  be  possible,  that  it 
destroy  not  the  harmony  of  the  whole.  Accordingly,  as  we  recede  from 
the  principal  organs,  and  approach  to  those  of  less  importance,  the  varie- 
ties in  structure  and  appearance  become  more  numerous ;  and  when  we 
arrive  at  the  surface  of  the  body,  where  the  parts  the  least  essential,  and 
whose  injuries  are  the  least  momentous,  are  necessarily  placed,  the  number 
of  varieties  is  so  great,  that  the  conjoined  labors  of  naturalists  have  not  yet 
been  able  to  give  us  an  adequate  idea  of  them."  —  Lemons  d'Anatomie  Cotn- 
par€e. 

16 


1S2  THE  GENERAL  CHARACTER 

ent  motives  whicfi  an?  present  to  the  roinds  c^  essch  one  of  ihetis. 
Political  Economy  is  a  science  wholly  made  up  of  such  general- 
izations of  the  conduct  of  men  as  rimj  be  made  by  observing 
the  miiformity  of  their  proceedings  in  respect  to  fehe  acquisition 
of  wealth.  That  competition  lowers  prices,  which  are  finally 
adjusted  hj  the  rartio  of  the  supply  to  the  demand,  is,  in  truth,  a 
general  law  of  human  nature,  founded  not  at  all  on  the  nature 
of  the  different  articles  which  constitute  wealth,  but  on  the  d!is- 
positions  of  men.  It  may  be  obtained  either  empirically,  by 
observing  the  course  of  trade,  or  deductively,  from  the  higher 
laws  OT  generalizations,  that  all  men  desire  wealth,  will  buy  as 
cheaply  and  sell  as  dearly  as  possilxle,  and  that  their  intelligence^ 
will  direct  them  to  the  use  of  similar  means  for  attaining  these 
ends. 

Mr,  Mill  even  goes  so  far  as  to  propose  a  new  scieneey  resting 
on  the  same  getferal  basis,  which  he  would  call  Political  Eth- 
ology, or  "  the  science  of  the  cmises  which  determine  the  type 
©f  character  belonging  to  a  people  or  an  age,"  Here  the  bias 
of  the  Necessarian  or  Fatahst  appears,  striving  to  reduce  all  the 
complexity  and  variety  of  human  action  under  the  dominion  of 
law,  and  to  calculate  it  as  he  would  the  effects  of  an  ordinary 
machine.  Human  conduct,  vieived  in  the  gross,  appears  nearly 
as  uniforai  as  the  phenomena  ascribed  to  gravitation ;  but  when 
viewed  m  detail^  it  is  a  mass  of  waverings,  inconsistencies, 
motiveless  alterations,  and  oddities  attributed  to  idiosyncrasies 
of  character,  which  baffle  all  computation  and  foresight.  A 
man  seldom  walks  across  a  room,  greets  a  visitor,  or  eats  his 
dinner  twice  in  precisely  the  same  manner ;  the  life,  the  char- 
acter, of  not  one  individual  is  the  perfect  counterpart  of  that  of 
another.  Look  at  great  masses  of  men  only  from  a  distance, 
at  which  minute  peculiarities  are  lost  in  the  general  effects, 
(just  as  the  sounds  from  a  distant  city  are  blended  into  one  hol- 
low murmur,)  and  they  appear  like  machines,  or  rather  the 
multitude  itself  seems  one  great  machine.  But  examine  micro- 
scopically the  conduct  of  an  individual  for  two  successive  hours, 
and  the  hypothesis  of  machinery  is  the  very  last  that  you 
would  adopt.     How  hard  it  is  to  reduce  one's  muscular  motions 


OF   THE   PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  183 

to  exact  law  and  method,  though  each  depends  on  a  distinct 
volition,  appears  from  the  difficulty  which  all  find  in  learning  to 
play  on  a  musical  instrument,  where  the  necessities  of  time  and 
tune  require  the  utmost  precision  of  fingering.  Even  Mr.  Mill 
is  obliged  to  confess  the  obstacles  to  the  establishment  of  his 
favorite  social  science,  arising  from  "  the  idiosyncrasies  of  organ- 
ization on  the  peculiar  history  of  individuals."  * 

The  charge  of  anthropomorpkism  considered.  —  I  am  awara 
that  this  parallel  between  the  providence  of  God  as  shown  in 
the  physical  history  of  the  universe,  and  the  conduct  of  man 
considered  as  depending  on  intelligence  and  freewill,  may  seem 
to  many  too  bold,  and  that  the  doctrine  which  brings  the  two 
together  is  open  to  the  reproach  of  anthropomorphism.  But 
we  are  not  to  be  driven  from  any  wellgrounded  conclusions, 
resting  on  the  testimony  of  facts  or  on  logical  speculation,  by 
any  overstrained  fastidiousness  or  a  blind  horror  of  an  ugly 
word.  This  charge  of  anthropomorphism,  or  of  degrading  our 
conceptions  of  the  Deity  by  ascribing  to  him  the  forms,  quali- 
ties, and  imperfections  of  finite  and  dependent  creatures,  is  the 
favorite  resource  of  the  skeptics  of  the  day,  directed  especially 

*  "  All  in  external  nature,"  says  De  Quincey,  "  proceeds  by  endless 
variety.  Infinite  change,  illimitable  novelty,  inexhaustible  difference,  these 
are  the  foundations  upon  which  nature  builds,  and  ratifies  her  purpose  of 
irxdividiixiUty ,  —  so  indispensable  amongst  a  thousand  other  great  uses,  to 
the  very  elements  of  social  distinctions  and  social  rights.  But  for  the 
endless  circumstances  of  diff*erence  which  characterize  external  objects,  the 
rights  of  property,  for  instance,  would  have  stood  upon  no  certain  basis,  nor 
admitted  of  any  general  or  comprehensive  guarantee. 

"  As  with  external  objects,  so  with  human  actions  ;  amidst  their  infinite 
ipproximations  and  afiinities,  they  are  separated  by  circumstances  of 
never-ending  diversity.  History  may  furnish  her  striking  correspondences, 
Biography  her  splendid  parallels,  Rome  may  in  certain  cases  appear  but 
the  mirror  of  Athens,  England  of  Rome  ;  —  and  yet,  after  all,  no  character 
can  be  cited,  no  great  transaction,  no  revolution  of  '  high-viced  cities/  no 
catastrophe  of  nations,  which,  in  the  midst  of  its  resemblances  to  distant 
correspondences  in  other  ages,  does  not  include  features  of  abundant  dis- 
tinction and  individualizing  characteristics,  so  many  and  so  important,  as 
to  yield  its  own  peculiar  matter  for  philosophical  meditation  and  its  own 
separate  moral."  —  De  Quincey's  Essay  on  Charlemagne. 


184  THE  GENERAL  CHARACTER 

against  the  argument  from  design,  which  represents  him  as  using 
means  far  the  attainment  of  specific  and  limited  ends  ;  as  if  the 
use  of  any  means  whatever  were  a  supposition  derogatory  to 
Omnipotence.  That  our  knowledge  of  the  Divine  character  is 
imperfect  at  best,  and  that  we  are  in  danger,  in  seeking  to  in- 
crease it,  of  passing  over  to  mean  and  idolatrous  conceptions  of 
his  attributes,  we  may  frankly  confess,  as  it  is  a  truth  attested 
by  the  history  of  all  the  degrading  forms  of  superstition  which 
have  prevailed  among  ignorant  and  sinful  men.  "  Canst  thou 
by  searching  find  out  God  ?  Canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty 
to  perfection  ?  It  is  high  as  heaven ;  what  canst  thou  do  ? 
deeper  than  hell ;  what  canst  thou  know  ?"  But  he  has  not  left 
us  wholly  without  hght ;  and  the  indications  of  his  being  and 
attributes  that  are  accessible,  whether  in  the  volume  of  his 
Word  or  in  that  of  his  works,  are  to  be  diligently  and  reverently 
studied,  without  fear  lest  they  should  lead  our  imperfect  appre- 
hensions wholly  astray.  It  was  the  remark  of  a  pagan  poet, 
adojited  by  a  Christian  apostle,  that  "  we  also  are  his  offspring." 
And  if  so,  even  the  weak  and  bounded  faculties  of  his  children, 
made  in  his  image,  when  purged  of  earthly  stains  and  freed 
from  all  limitations,  may  still  find  their  likeness  in  the  attributes 
of  the  Infinite  One.  The  charge  of  anthropomorphism,  in  the 
strict  meaning  of  that  word,  is,  of  course,  a  senseless  and  ground- 
less one,  when  brought  against  the  doctrine  that  ascribes  eternal 
duration,  oynnipotence,  and  omnipresence  to  the  Deity.  And 
in  the  higher  moral  attributes  of  our  own  being,  if  we  have  no 
reflection  —  faint,  it  is  true,  but  still  a  reflection  —  of  the  Divine 
nature,  —  if  the  highest  and  purest  conception  which  we  can  form 
of  holiness  does  not  merely  come  short  of,  but  differs  essentially, 
or  in  kind,  from  the  Divine  exemplar,  then  indeed  are  we  most 
miserable,  and  our  knowledge  on  this  subject  is  worse  than  utter 
ignorance.  But  all  intelligence  is  necessarily  of  the  same  order, 
though  differing  infinitely  in  degree ;  and  in  this  respect,  we 
cannot  doubt  that  it  is  the  inspiration  of  the  Almighty  that 
giveth  us  understanding.  To  say  that  the  use  of  means  to  any 
end  is  not  consonant  with  the  perfections  of  an  infinite  being,  is 
to  arrogate  to  ourselves  his  absolute  wisdom,  and  to  make  the 


OF    THE    PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  185 

creature  a  judge  of  the  Creator.  Btisides,  the  anthropomorphic 
tendency  of  our  finite  conceptions  is  met  by  a  danger  of  the 
opposite  character,  —  by  the  risk  of  so  far  subhmating  our 
notion  of  Divinity,  that  nothing  shall  be  left  but  the  undefined 
shadow  of  an  awful  idea,  dimly  inferred  from  transcendental 
musings.  Better  to  sensualize  our  conceptions,  so  that  the 
affection  due  to  a  Father  may  enter  into  them,  than  to  refine 
them  into  limitless  abstractions. 

Order  indicates  intelligence.  —  The  order  that  reigns  in  the 
works  of  creation,  the  uniformity  of  constantly  recurrent  phe- 
nomena, may  be  viewed  either  in  itself,  as  a  direct  indication 
of  intelligence,  or  as  the  fruit  of  design,  and  thus  indirectly 
showing  the  wisdom  of  the  contriver.  Order  is  not  necessarily 
purposed  for  its  own  sake  ;  it  is  the  consequence  of  wisdom  in 
action,  constantly  tending  towards  the  same  ends,  pursuing  them 
by  the  best  means,  and  without  variableness  or  shadow  of  turn- 
ing. But  it  may  also  be  designed,  as  a  part  of  the  scheme  for 
governing  those  who  are  left  in  the  main  to  the  guidance  of 
their  own  wills  and  understandings,  and  so  need  the  uniformity 
of  nature's  laws  for  the  regulation  of  their  conduct.  In  the 
latter  respect,  then,  the  consideration  of  it  comes  in  as  one 
branch  of  the  argument  from  design ;  in  the  former,  the  point 
of  the  reasoning  is  so  well  illustrated  by  an  anecdote  borrowed 
by  Dugald  Stewart  from  the  French,  that  I  translate  it  from  the 
Notes  to  his  Dissertation  on  the  Progress  of  Metaphysical, 
Ethical,  and  Political  Philosophy. 

"Among  the  associates  of  the  Baron  d'Holbach  [who  were 
all  atheists],  Diderot  one  day  proposed  that  they  should  select  an 
advocate  to  plead  the  cause  of  the  Deity ;  and  the  Abbe  Galiani 
was  chosen.     He  took  bis  seat,  and  commenced  as  follows :  — 

" '  One  day  at  Naples,  a  certain  person  in  our  presence  put 
six  dice  into  a  dice-box,  and  offered  a  wager  that  he  would 
throw  sizes  with  the  whole  set.  I  said,  that  the  chance  was 
possible.  He  threw  the  dice  in  this  way  twice  in  succession ; 
and  I  still  observed,  that  possibly  he  had  succeeded  by  chance. 
He  put  back  the  dice  into  the  box  for  the  third,  fourth,  and  fifth 
time,  and  invariably  threw  sizes  with  the  whole  set.     "  By  the 

IG* 


186  THE  GENERAL  CHARACTER 

blood  of  Bacchus,"  I  exclaifhed,  ^^the  dice  are  loaded;"  and  so 
they  were. 

" '  Philosophers,  when  I  look  at  the  order  of  nature  that  is 
constantly  reproduced,  its  fixed  laws,  its  successive  changes, 
invariably  producing  the  same  effect,  —  when  I  consider  that 
there  is  but  one  chance  which  can  preserve  the  universe  in  the 
orderly  state  in  which  we  now  see  it,  and  that  this  always 
happens,  in  spite  of  a  hundred  million  of  other  possible  chances 
of  perturbation  and  destruction,  —  I  cry  out.  Surely^  Nature's 
dice  are  also  loaded.^  "  * 

This  argument  sound,  though  not  demonstrative.  —  The  argu- 
ment here  is  so  plain  and  forcible,  and  affords  so  little  room  for 
sophistry  and  cavilling,  that  we  cannot  conceive  of  a  person 
failing  to  be  convinced  by  it,  though  he  may  wish  to  show  his 
ingenuity  in  commenting  upon  it  as  a  piece  of  reasoning.  It  is 
true,  that  this  mode  of  proof  is  not,  strictly  speaking,  a  demon- 
stration. "  The  conclusion  is  not  apodictical,"  says  Kant ;  and 
this  is  the  only  defect  which  he  has  to  urge  against  the  argu- 


*  "  Man  is  always  mending  and  altering  his  works  ;  but  nature  observes 
the  same  tenor,  because  her  works  are  so  perfect,  that  there  Is  no  place  for 
amendments,  nothing  that  can  be  reprehended.  The  most  sagacious  men 
in  so  many  ages  have  not  been  able  to  find  any  flaw  in  these  divinely  con- 
trived and  formed  machines  ;  no  blot  or  error  in  this  great  volume  of  the 
world,  as  if  any  thing  had  been  an  imperfect  essay  at  the  first ;  nothing 
that  can  be  altered  for  the  better ;  nothing  but  if  it  were  altered,  would  be 
marred.  This  could  not  have  been,  had  man's  body  been  the  work  of 
chance,  and  not  counsel  and  providence.  Why  should  there  be  constantly 
the  same  paits  1  Why  should  they  retain  constantly  the  same  places  1 
Nothing  so  contrary  as  constancy  and  chance.  Should  I  see  a  man  tlirow 
the  same  number  a  thousand  times  together  upon  but  three  dice,  could  you 
persuade  me  that  this  were  accidental,  and  that  there  was  no  neces-sary 
cause  for  it  ?  How  much  more  incredible  then  is  it,  that  constancy  in  such 
a  variety,  such  a  multiplicity  of  parts,  should  be  the  result  of  chance  ? 
Neither  yet  can  these  works  be  the  effects  of  necessity  or  fate,  for  then 
there  would  be  the  same  constancy  observed  in  the  smaller  as  well  as  in 
the  larger  parts  and  vessels  ;  whereas  there  we  see  nature  doth,  as  it  were, 
sport  itself,  the  minute  ramifications  of  all  the  vessels,  veins,  arteries,  and 
nerves,  infinitely  varying  in  individuals  of  the  same  species,  so  that  they 
aare  not  in  any  two  alike."  —  Ray's  Wisdom  of  God  in  the  Creation. 


OF   THE   PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  187 

ment  a  posteriori.  But  what  does  such  an  objection  amount  to  ? 
Suppose  that  after  Franklin  liad  proved  the  presence  of  elec- 
tricity in  a  tLundercloudj  by  drawing  the  fluid  to  the  earth, 
charging  a  Leyden  jar  with  it,  and  clausing  it  to  manifest  all  the 
common  electric  phenomena,  a  bystaijder  should  still  object  in 
this  wise  to  his  doctrine  and  proof:  —  "  You  are  judging  of  the 
presence  of  a  thing  only  fix^m  its  effects  ;  the  truth  of  the  theory 
opposed  to  yours  is  still  conceivable ;  your  facts  and  arguments 
do  not  constitute  a  cliaiij  of  reasoning  like  that  which  supports  a 
proposition  in  Euclid.*'  The  plain  answer  would  be,  that  the 
affirmation  is  supported  by  the  only  evidence  of  which,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  it  is  susceptible-  Afcuct  can  he  proved  only  hy 
other  facts  ;  that  which  is  not  perceptible  to  the  senses,  can  be 
made  known  only  through  its  effects.  And  though  the  proof  be 
not  a  demonstration,  to  reject  it  would  be  quite  as  plain  an  indi- 
cation of  folly  or  insanity,  as  to  deny  the  truth  of  any  theorem 
in  geometry. 

Universal  skepticism  cvires  itself^  —  Besides,  it  is  evident,  that 
if  we  admit  the  sufficiency  of  such  objections,  the  whole  fe,bric 
of  physical  science,  which  is  founded  upon  such  deductions  from 
facts,  must  come  to  the  ground.  We  must  reject  all  that  the 
labors  of  the  last  three  centuries  have  accumulated  by  question- 
ing nature,  and  sit  down  contented  in  hopeless  ignorance ;  for 
the  same  considerations  which  show  the  unsatisfactory  character 
of  what  has  been  done,  prove  also  that  nothing  more  or  better 
can  ever  be  accomplished.  As  no  one  can  seriously  entertain 
such  sweeping  disbelief  universal  skepticism  in  fact  cures  itself, 
if  "  its  universality  is  steadily  kept  in  view,  and  constantly  borne 
in  mind.  But  in  practice,  it  is  an  armory  from  which  weapons 
are  taken  to  be  employed  against  some  opinions,  while  it  is 
hidden  from  notice^  that  the  same  weapon  would  equally  cut 
down  every  other  conviction."  I  repeat  it,  then,  all  the  common 
metaphysical  objections  to  the  argument  from  design,  and  to  the 
other  modes  of  proving  the  Divine  existence  which  proceed  from 
the  peculiarities  of  the  effect  to  the  cause,  are  equally  de:^t^uctive 
of  our  reliance  on  all  history,  all  physical  science,  and  even  on 
all  the  ordinary  maxims  of  experience  which  govern  our  daily 


188  THE  GENERAL  CHARACTER 

conduct.  "  Fortunately,"  says  the  great  skeptic  himself,  "  since 
reason  is  incapable  of  dispelling  these  clouds.  Nature  herself 
BuiTices  for  that  purpose,  and  cures  me  of  this  philosophical  de- 
lirium." 

"  Whatever,"  says  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  "  whatever  attacks 
every  principle  of  belief  can  destroy  none.  As  long  as  the 
foundations  of  knowledge  are  allowed  to  remain  on  the  same 
level  (be  it  called  of  certainty  or  uncertainty)  with  the  maxims 
of  life,  the  whole  system  of  human  conviction  must  continue 
undisturbed.  When  the  skeptic  boasts  of  having  involved  the 
results  of  expenence  and  the  elements  of  geometry  in  the  same 
ruin  with  the  doctrines  of  religion  and  the  principles  of  philoso- 
phy, he  may  be  answered.  That  no  dogmatist  ever  claimed  more 
than  the  same  degree  of  certainty  for  these  various  convictions 
and  opinions ;  and  that  his  skepticism^  therefc^re,.  leaves  them  in 
the  relative  condition  in  which  it  found  them.  No  man  knew 
better,  or  owned  more  frankly,  than  Mr.  Hume,  that  to  this 
answer  there  is  no  serious  reply.  Universal  skepticism  involves 
a  contradiction  in  terms ;  it  is  a  belief  that  there  can  he  no  belief:. 
It  is  an  attempt  of  the  mind  to  act  without  its  structure,  and  by 
other  laws  than  those  to  w4iich  its  nature  has  subjected  its 
operations.  To  reason  without  assenting  to  the  principles  on 
which  all  reasoning  is  founded,  is  not  unlike  an  effort  to  feel 
without  nerves,  or  to  move  without  muscles." 

The  conception  of  chance  analyzed.  —  The  idea  of  chance  oc- 
curs so  frequently  in  the  discussion  of  the  argument  from  design, 
that  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  that  we  should  form  a  distinct 
conception  of  what  is  meant  by  it,  and  how  the  phenomena 
which  common  language  ascribes  to  that  abstraction  are  really 
produced.  Now  this  conception  will  depend  on  the  peculiar 
view  which  we  may  take  of  the  theory  of  causation,  or  of  the 
nature  of  phenomena  in  the  physical  univei^e.  I  have  said, 
that  there  are  but  two  such  views  or  theories  which  are  logical^ 
complete,  and  consistent ;  the  one,  which  ascribes  all  change,  all 
events  that  take  place,  to  powers  necessarily  inherent  in  matter, 
and  which  therefore  makes  out  all  activity  to  be  necessary  and 
mechanical,  and  the  universe  to  be  one  vast  machine ;  the  othey^ 


OF   THE    PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  189 

which  attributes  all  motion,  activity,  and  change  to  personal 
agency,  which  considers  matter  as  necessarily  passive  and  inert, 
and  hence  all  phenomena  which  begin  to  be  as  direct  results  of 
power  directed  by  intelligence,  and  accompanied  by  freewill. 
Now  the  word  chance  assumes  different  meanings  accordino-  as 
we  adopt  one  or  the  other  of  these  theories.  Under  the  former, 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  chance ;  the  word  has  absolutely  no 
significance  or  applicability  whatever.  We  cannot  stop  short 
of  Spinozism ;  there  is  nothing  fortuitous ;  every  phenomenon 
is  the  invariable  and  necessary  result  of  its  antecedents,  the  in- 
variable and  necessary  cause  of  those  which  come  after  it.  This 
truth  is  so  clearly  explained  and  illustrated  by  Mr.  Mill,  though 
certainly  without  a  perception  of  its  logical  consequences,  that  I 
shall  borrow  his  language. 

"  Chance  is  usually  spoken  of,"  he  says,  "  in  direct  antithesis 
to  law  ;  whatever  (it  is  supposed)  cannot  be  ascribed  to  any 
law,  is  attributed  to  chance.  It  is,  however,  certain,  that  what- 
ever happens  is  the  result  of  some  law,  is  an  effect  of  causes, 
and  could  have  been  predicted  from  a  knowledge  of  the  exist- 
ence of  those  causes,  and  from  their  laws.  If  I  turn  up  a  par- 
ticular card,  that  is  a  consequence  of  its  place. in  the  pack.  Its 
place  in  the  pack  was  a  consequence  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
cards  were  shuffled,  or  of  the  order  in  which  they  were  played 
in  the  last  game ;  which,  again,  were  the  effects  of  prior  causes. 
At  every  stage,  if  we  had  possessed  an  accurate  knowledge  of 
the  causes  in  existence,  it  would  have  been  abstractedly  possi- 
ble to  foretell  the  effect 

"It  is  incorrect,  then,  to  say  that  any  phenomenon  is  produced 
by  chance ;  but  we  may  say  that  two  or  more  phenomena  are 
conjoined  by  chance,  that  they  coexist  or  succeed  one  another 
only  by  chance ;  meaning,  that  they  are  in  no  way  related 
through  causation ;  that  they  are  neither  cause  and  effect,  nor 
effects  of  the  same  cause,  nor  effects  of  causes  between  which 
there  subsists  any  law  of  coexistence,  nor  even  effects  of  the 
i>ame  original  collocation  of  primeval  causes." 

What  is  denoted,  on  this  theory,  hy  chance.  ■^—  Obviously,  then, 
on  this  theory,  we  ascribe  the  origin  of  a  thing  to  chance  only  to 


190  THE  GENERAL  CHARACTER 

denote  our  ignorance  of  its  true  cause,  not  meaning  to  affirm 
that  it  was  not  caused  at  all.  Its  antecedents  are  so  numerous 
and  obscure,  that  we  cannot  discern  the  order  of  their  succes- 
sion, or  pick  out  from  among  them  its  latest  and  invariable  fore- 
runner. 

"  All  nature  is  but  art  unknown  to  thee  ; 
All  chance,  direction  which  thou  canst  not  see." 

Not  knowing  the  number  of  times  that  the  dice  knock  against 
each  other  and  against  the  sides  of  the  dice-box,  or  the  exact 
position  in  which  each  one  was  before  it  received  each  blow, 
we  cannot  tell  which  side  will  fall  uppermost ;  though,  if  we 
had  this  knowledge,  from  the  combined  effect  of  the  law  of 
gravitation  and  of  these  several  impulses,  we  could  foretell  the 
exact  position  in  which  they  would  finally  be  left.  There  may 
be  casual  conjunctions  of  events,  but  no  casual  origin  of  them. 
Accordingly,  on  this  mechanical  theory  of  the  universe,  to  put 
chance  in  the  place  of  a  First  Cause  is  to  deal  in  nonsense ;  it 
is  not  simply  an  unfounded,  but  an  unmeaning,  hypothesis.  On 
this  theory,  the  world  had  no  beginning  ;  nothing  ever  absolutely 
began  to  be. 

What  chance  denotes,  on  the  second  theory.- — On  the  other 
theory,  which  ascribes  all  events  to  immediate  personal  agency, 
chance  has  a  meaning  as  the  opposite  or  absence  of  design. 
Whatever  is  done  by  a  finite  being,  not  for  its  own  sake,  but 
from  its  subserviency  to.  some  other  object,  is  done  without 
regard,  if  I  may  so  speak,  to  the  whole  event,  but  only  with 
regard  to  some,  perhaps  one,  of  its  relations  or  effects.  If  I 
wish  to  walk  in  a  certain  direction,  I  may  push  a  stone  out  of 
my  path,  intending  only  to  remove  an  obstacle,  and  not  caring 
where  the  stone  may  lie,  so  that  it  be  not  in  my  way ;  that  is, 
I  purpose  or  design  only  the  removal  of  an  obstruction  ;  I  do  not 
purpose  its  removal  to  a  particular  spot.  Its  falling  on  a  certain 
spot,  then,  is  said  to  be,  not  causdess,  — for  it  had  a  cause,  just 
as  much  as  any  other  event,  —  but  accidental,  that  is,  not 
designed.  On  either  theory,  therefore,  to  make  chance,  a  cause, 
is  simply  to  talk  nonsense.     Again,  a  sculptor  removes  chips 


OP  THE   PHYSICAL   UNIVERSE.  191 

from  the  marble  on  which  he  is  at  work,  intending  only  to  bring 
out  the  statue,  and  not  purposing  the  juxtaposition  of  these 
chips  and  dust  as  they  fall.  The  form  which  the  heap  of  refuse 
matter  assumes  on  the  ground  is  said  to  be  accidental,  because 
it  was  not  designed.  Chance,  then,  is,  so  to  speak,  the  residuum 
of  design ;  a  portion  of  the  event  —  namely,  the  form  of  the 
chip  ill  part,  and^  its  removal  from  the  main  block  —  was 
effected  by  design  ;  the  remainder  <jf  its  form,  and  its  position 
when  falling,  were  not  intended,  but  were  casual.  Conse- 
quently, chance  implies  design  ;  we  can  attribute  only  a  portion 
of  an  effect  to  it,  and  ^n  so  doing,  we  admit  that  the  remaining 
portion  was  foreseen  and  desired. 

How  casual  effects  may  he  distinguished  from  designed  effects » 
—  This  illustration  brings  us  to  tie  knowledge  of  a  criterion 
by  which  we  may  distinguish  what  is  casual  from  what  is  in- 
tended. If  we  visited  the  studio  of  the  artist  during  his 
absence,  and  saw  the  statue  and  the  heap  of  chips  lying  side  by 
side,  why  do  we  say  that  the  form  of  the  one  was  designed,  and 
that  of  the  other  was  not  ?  Obviously,  on  account  of  the 
regularity  of  shape  and  outline  of  the  statue,  and  from  its 
resemblance  t<i  the  form  of  some  human  being  or  other  crea- 
ture ;  for  an  induction  coextensive  with  our  whole  experience 
assures  us,  that  aggregations  which  were  casual,  or  not  pur- 
posed, are  quite  irregular  in  shape,  and  bear  no  likeness  to 
any  thing  except  other  aggregations,  believed  to  be  as  casual 
as  themselves.  A  skeptic  might  tell  me,  it  is  true,  that  I  could 
not  demonstrate  the  truth  of  my  conclusion ;  it  is  certainly  con- 
ceivable, that  the  sculptor  should  have  hewed  off  bits  from  a 
block  of  marble,  intending  only  to  make  a  fantastic  or  irregular 
pile  of  them ;  and  that  he  happened  so  to  choose  the  points 
from  which  these  pieces  were  taken,  that  a  regular  stiitue  was 
left  in  the  remainder  of  the  block,  though  he  never  thought  of 
that  remainder.  Well,  I  admit  it ;  this  hypothesis  is  conceiv- 
able; but  is  it  credible'^  Would  you  believe,  under  such  cir- 
cumstances, that  the  sculptor  has  thus  acted,  and  the  statue  had 
thus  been  produced  accidentally,  or  without  being  intended  ? 

I  am  not  seeking  now  to  illustrate  the  main  purport  of  the 


192  THE  GENERAL  CnARACTER 

argument  from  design ;  the  instance  taken  would  be  poorly 
chosen  for  that  end.  I  seek  only  to  expose  the  true  nature  of 
the  chief  metaphysical  objection  to  that  argument,  in  order 
that  you  may  see  clearly  what  that  objection  is  worth.  My 
point  is,  that,  in  dcclariug  some,  if  not  all,  of  the  phenomena 
of  the  physical  universe  to  have  been  produced  by  design,  we 
are  not  making  any  unfounded  assumption,  -or  resting  on  any 
intuitive  principle  of  the  human  intellect ;  but  we  are  judging 
from  experience,  from  the  largest  possible  induction  of  facts, 
the  conclusion  being  of  the  same  general  character  witb  all 
the  ordinary  results  of  physical  science  ;  that  is,  it  is  suiDported 
by  evidence  of  the  same  kind,  though  vastly  superior  in  amount. 
From  the  experience  of  our  own  actions,  we  know  what  is  the 
general  character  of  those  results  which  are  intended  or  pur- 
posed, and  those  which  are  accidental.  We  know  what  sort  of 
effects  intelligent  action  produces,  and  what  is  the  general  aspect 
of  casual  coincidences  and  aggregations.  Judging  from  this 
experience,  we 'can  tell  ichere  our  fellow  man  has  been  at  worhy 
and,  in  the  same  manner,  where  God  is  at  work.  Finite  intelli- 
gence differs  from  infinite,  not  in  the  general  character,  but  in 
the  extent  and  excellence,  of  its  operations.* 

*  Dr.  Wliewell  affirms,  that  design  is  an  intuitive  idea,  a  conception  of 
pure  reason,  called  out  and  developed,  it  is  true,  by  experience,  but  not 
growing  out  of  that  experience.  We  can  hardly  believe  that  he  is  serious  in 
this  assertion.  If  design  be  considered  merely  as  synonymous  with  inten- 
tion, or  purpose,  then  it  is  evident,  that  we  can  have  no  knowledge  of  it 
until  we  have  had  experience  of  a  purpose  ;  that  is,  until  we  have  intended 
or  designed  to  perform  some  act.  The  origin  of  the  idea  is  in  reflection, 
or  the  observation  of  what  passes  in  our  own  minds.  So  we  experience  a 
certain  emotion,  and  apply  a  name  to  it,  in  order  to  distinguish  it  from 
other  emotions,  that  ditfer  from  it  in  kind,  or  are  excited  by  a  different 
class  of  objects.  But  it  would  be  very  strange  to  say,  that  love,  or  wonder, 
or  pity,  was  an  intuitive  idea. 

It  is  very  true,  that  we  mean  something  more  than  mere  intention,  in 
speaking  of  the  argument  from  final  causes.  But  the  case  here  is  still 
stronger  against  the  assertion,  which  we  are  now  considering.  In  this 
case,  design  is  a  very  complex  notion,  nearly  all  the  elements  of  it.  being 
drawn  from  mental  experience.  They  are  founded  on  our  observation 
of  ourselves,  and  are  successively  elaborated  and  united  into  the  complex 


OF   THE    PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  193 

What  is  proved  hy  the  argument  from  design.  —  Strictly 
speaking,  the  argument  from  design  does  not  establish  the  exist- 
ence of  a  cause,  but  only  the  character  of  that  cause,  —  that  it  is 
intelligent,  personal,  coextensive  at  least  with  the  universe  of 
existing  things,  and  so  Divine.  From  the  reasoning  pursued 
in  the  two  former  chapters,  we  were  driven  to  the  necessity  of 
admitting  some  cause,  whether  personal  or  not,  to  account  for 
the  events  which  have  taken  place,  and  for  those  which  are 
constantly  going  on  under  our  observation  ;  and  as  the  only 
power,  or  true  cause,  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  is  personal, 
being  that  of,  man  himself,  it  was  argued  that  the  cause  of  all 
things  not  produced  by  human  agency  was  also  personal.  To 
this  it  was  certainly  possible  to  answer,  though  the  reply  is 
surely  a  very  indefinite  and  unmeaning  one,  that,  discarding 
alike  the  hypothesis  of  active  powers  inherent  in  matter,  and  of 
personal  agency  such  as  is  exerted  by  man,  the  phenomena  of 
nature  might  be  attributed  to  a  cause  in  general,  of  which  we 


notion,  which  we  call  design.  The  idea  rests  originally  on  a  perception 
of  the  relation  of  means  to  an  end.  Having  observed,  that  a  particuhir 
event  followed  immediately  after  another,  or  several  others,  and  connect- 
ing the  consequent  with  these  antecedents  by  an  intuitive  application  of 
the  law  of  causality,  and  believing  that  the  course  of  nature  is  uniform,  or 
that  like  effects  will  follow  like  causes,  and  desiring  that  the  conse<|uent 
event  may  again  occur,  —  we  act ;  that  is,  we  exert  our  agency  to  bring 
about  events  similar  to  the  former  antecedent  ones,  doing  this  under  the 
expectation,  that  a  similar  consequent  event  will  follow.  Thus  design 
implies, — first,  intelligence,  or  si  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  causality  and 
uniformity;  —  secondly,  particular  experience  of  some  one  event.  A,  hap- 
]iening  in  immediate  connection  with  several  others,  B  and  C  ;  —  thirdly, 
a  will  to  reproduce  the  event  A ;  —  fourthly,  action,  in  order  to  bring  about 
the  events  B  and  C,  under — (fifthly)  an  expectation  that  A  will  imme- 
ciiately  follow.  Are  these  five  elements  all  of  a  prion  origin  1  Is  not 
action  necessarily  impHed  in  design  1  And  how  can  we  have  an  idea  of 
it  until  we  have  acted  ;  that  is,  until  we  have  had  experience,  and  derived 
knowledge  directly  from  that  experience  ? 

It  is,  indeed,  in  the  complexity  of  this  notion,  that  the  importance  of  the 
argument  from  final  causes  almost  wholly  consists.  Wherever  we  find 
indications  of  design,  there  is  evidence,  to  an  equal  extent,  of  intelligence, 
will,  activity,  and  foresight. 

17 


19^  THE   GENERAL    CHARACTER 

can  only  say  that  we  know  nothing,  and  therefore  cannot  ascribe 
to  it  either  intelUgence  or  freewill.  This  is  an  appeal  to  human 
ignorance,  it  is  true  ;  and  it  violates  that  sound  rule  of  inductive 
logic,  which  bids  us  attribute  certain  effects  to  any  known  and 
sufficient  cause,  even  though  no  direct  connection  is  traceable 
between  them,  provided  there  is  no  proved  incompatibility  of 
such  a  cause  with  these  effects,  in  preference  to  attributing  them 
simply  to  some  unknown  cause.  But  the  consideration  of  the 
peculiar  character  of  the  effect  affords  a  more  direct  answer  to 
this  vague  objection,  by  proving  incontestably  that  the  First 
Cause  must  unite  intelligence,  will,  activity,  and  fgresight ;  for 
these  are  all  implied  in  desig?i.  The  God  thus  revealed  is  an 
individual,  self-conscious,  and  creative  being,  whose  care  extends 
to  the  minutest  part  of  creation ;  since  his  wisdom,  activity,  and 
benevolence  can  be  as  plainly  seen  in  the  structure  of  a  blade 
of  grass,  as  in  a  system  of  revolving  satellites  and  suns. 

The  argument  from  design  a  simple  and  ohvious  one.  —  The 
argument  from  design  is  a  simple,  obvious,  and  natural  one, 
which  can  be  assailed  only  by  far-fetched,  fine-spun,  and  meta- 
physical reasonings ;  and  this,  it  seems  to  me,  is  a  strong  consid- 
eration in  favor  of  its  soundness.  Common  men  do  not  often 
reason  wrongly  about  simple  subjects  and  matters-of-fact ;  they 
are  often,  indeed,  mistaken  in  their  premises;  but  granting 
these,  they  advance  from  them  through  a  few  steps  of  proof  with 
unerring  accuracy  to  a  just  conclusion.  An  uneducated  man, 
of  good  common  sense,  is  always  a  better  inductive  philosopher 
than  a  subtile  logician,  trained  in  the  schools,  who  often  w^inds 
himself  up  in  a  web  of  ingenious  sophistry,  so  that  he  cannot 
move  a  step  in  any  direction.  The  argument  has  been  pro- 
pounded in  nearly  all  ages  of  the  world,  of  which  we  have  any 
distinct  record,  and  even  among  rude  and  illiterate  tribes  of 
men,  to  justify  that  faith  which,  in  the  mind  of  every  person, 
depends  upon  it  to  a  greater  or  less  degree,  though  he  may  not 
be  able  to  state  it  in  precise  language.  It  was  as  ably  set  forth 
and  illustrated  by  Socrates,  twenty-five  hundred  years  ago,  as 
it  has  been  in  any  recent  treatise  on  natural  theology.  Pale/s 
celebrated  illustration  of  it  by  a  watch,  la  almost  equalled  in 


OP   THE    PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  195 

beauty  an4  appositeness  by  Cicero's  instance  of  an  ingenious 
instrument,  made  by  one  Posidonius  in  his  day,  which  accurately 
represented  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  as  they  were 
then  known ;  the  Roman  philosopher  asks,  if  this  were,  carried 
into  Scythia  or  Britain,  whether  even  the  barbarous  inhabitants 
of  those  countries  would  believe  that  more  intelligence  and 
ingenuity  were  required  to  construct  this  feeble  imitation  of  the 
planetary  sphere,  than  to  make  and  keep  in  motion  the  stupen- 
dous sphere  itself;  or  that  the  origin  of  the  poor  copy  nm^i  be 
ascribed  to  wise  design,  while  the  original  was  the  product  of 
mere  chance.  Even  the  unlettered  Greenlander  told  the 
Danish  missionary,  who  came  to  instruct  him,  that  as  he  knew 
his  kajak,  or  boat,  with  its  tackle  and  implements,  could  not  be 
built  without  much  labor  and  skill,  and  as  the  meanest  bird 
required  more  ingenuity  to  make  it  than  the  best  kajak,  so  he 
had  always  believed  that  some  being  must  exist,  wiser  than  the 
wisest  man,  who  had  made  all  these  things. 

Statement  of  the  argument  from  design.  —  Considering  that 
the  existence  and  eternal  duration  of  a  First  Cause  have  been 
fully  proved,  both  from  the  beginning  and  the  continuance  of 
the  universe  of  things,  the  argument  from  design,  in  the  form 
least  open  to  cavil,  to  show  that  this  cause  must  be  intelligent, 
provident,  and  benevolent,  can  be  very  briefly  stated.  It  is, 
that  a  great  number  of  agents  being  found  to  work  together  by 
a  complex  and  intricate,  yet  orderly  process,  towards  the  attain- 
ment of  some  end,  there  must  exist  an  intelligent  and  active  being, 
who  had  this  end  in  view,  and  who  made  this  disposition  of  the 
agents  as  means  for  its  accomplishment.  Orderly  cooperation 
implies  intelligent  and  directing  power.  And  the  order  may  be 
so  perfect,  and  the  number  of  cooperating  agents  so  great,  that 
this  implication  becomes,  what  is  called  in  common  discourse, 
not  in  logic,  absolute  certainty.  When  the  material  frame  of  a 
living  thing  is  so  organized  and  put  together,  that  a  great  num- 
ber of  motions  and  effects  can  be  produced  with  ease  and  within 
a  small  compass,  all  of  them  being  subservient  to  the  preserva- 
tion of  the  animal's  existence,  and  closely  adapted  to  its  modes 
of  life,  the  inference  that  this  animal  was  fashioned  by  an  intel- 


19G  THE  GENERAL  CHARACTER 

ligent  Creator  is  irresistible.  When  such  instances  of  joint 
agency  and  adaptation  are  found  to  be,  not  few  in  number,  and 
scattered,  as  it  were,  by  chance  amidst  an  infinite  number  of 
contiictii)g  powers,  disorderly  arrangements,  and  nugatory  re- 
sults, but  manifestations  of  a  great  law  that  pervades  all  nature, 
uniformity  being  the  general  rule,  and  the  varieties  being  strictly 
suited  to  the  dif^er^ent  circumstances,  and  all  the  parts,  by  a  vis- 
ible connection,  tending  towards  and  effecting  one  general  re- 
sult, —  namely,  the  happiness  of  animal  and  intelligent  life,  — 
then  the  conclusion,  that  the  whole  framework  of  the  universe 
was  designed  and  executed  by  one  Being  of  surpassing  wisdom 
and  goodness,  comes  home  to  the  mind  with  a  force  and  clear- 
ness which  no  prejudice  can  reject,  and  no  sophistry  evade. 

Number  and  'perfection  of  the  adaptations  found  in  the  physi- 
cal universe.  —  The  point  on  which  the  whole  stress  of  this 
argument  depends,  is  the  proposition,  that  adaptation  proves 
design,  or  that  the  concurrence  of  means  to  an  end,  under  cer- 
tain circumstances,  must  have  been  intentional ;  that  is,  the  end 
was  foreseen  and  desired.  All  the  other  points  are  admitted. 
It  is  admitted,  for  instance,  that  design  proves  a  designer,  —  that 
there  cannot  be  contrivance  unless  there  was  some  being  who 
contrived ;  this  is  little  more  than  an  identical  proposition,  or  an 
explanation  of  the  meaning  of  words.  So,  also,  it  is  admitted 
that  there  are  wonderful  adaptations  in  the  physical  universe, 
countless  in  number,  —  grand,  complex,  and  intricate  beyond  the 
most  elaborate  machine  of  man's  device,  —  delicate,  precise,  and 
artistic  to  a  degree  exceeding  what  the  finest  perception  of  the 
senses,  aided  by  the  most  finished  instruments,  can  discover.  I 
have  already  spoken  of  their  number  and  variety,  as  they  are 
found  in  the  bodily  structure  of  the  animalcules  which  people 
v^ith  their  multitude  a  drop  of  water,  in  the  fabric  and  tissues 
of  all  vegetable  and  animal  things,  and  in  the  disposition  and 
an-angement  of  inorganic  matter,  from  a  clod  of  earth  up  to  the 
wonderful  framework  and  garniture  of  the  heavens  ;  —  a  system 
of  revolving  worlds,  whose  motions  and  inequalities  are  so 
wonderfully  balanced  and  adjusted,  all  subject  to  one  law,  exert- 
ing mutual  influence,  but  never  interfering,  with  the  appendage 


OF   THE    PHYSICAL    UNIVERSE.  197 

of  minor  orbs,  all  working  harmoniously  with  the  great  scheme. 
"  Earum  autem  perennes  cursus,  atque  perpetui  cum  admira- 
bili  incredibilique  constantia,  declarant  in  his  vim  et  mentem 
esse  divinam,  ut  ha3c  ipsa  qui  non  sentiat  deorum  vim  habere,  is 
nihil  omnino  sensurus  esse  videatur."  As  to  their  complexity, 
and  the  subserviency  of  numerous  parts,  dissimilar  to  each 
other,  to  one  great  end,  take  the  most  intricate  engine  that  man 
ever  contrived,  —  a  carpet-loom,  for  instance,  or  a  printing-press 
moved  by  steam,  which  it  requires  a  day's  study  to  take  apart 
and  understand  ;  —  and  yet  the  anatomist  and  physiologist  will 
tell  you,  that  this  machine  is  not  to  be  comj)ared,  in  point  of 
complexity  and  elaborateness,  with  your  own  body,  in  which 
the  arrangement  of  means  that  continue,  preserve,  and  repair  it 
is  so  curious  and  intricate,  that  all  the  resources  of  modern 
science  have  not  yet  sufficed  to  thread  the  whole  labyrinth  and 
show  the  meaning  of  the  entire  structure.  As  to  nicety  of 
arrangement  and  perfection  of  finish^  go  into  an  observatory 
and  examine  a  chronometer,  or  a  sidereal  clock,  or  a  repeating 
telescope,  with  its  limbs  graduated  and  marked  off  to  the  hun- 
dredth part  of  a  hair's  breadth ;  and  you  will  have  but  a  faint 
idea  of  the  delicacy  and  fine  adjustment  of  the  parts  in  the 
human  eye  and  ear,  through  which  these  organs  perform  their 
office,  and  are  preserved  from  injury  or  decay. 

The  whole  question  is,  whether  these  numerous,  complex,  and 
nice  adaptations  prove  design. 


17 


198  THE   ARGUMENT    FROM    DESIGN. 


CHAPTER     IX. 

THE    ARGUMENT    FROM    DESIGN. 

Summary  of  the  last  cTiapter.  —  Hume's  argument,  that  crear 
tion  is  a  singular  effect,  not  coming  within  the  range  of  our 
experience,  and  so  not  to  be  accounted  for  by  inferences 
drawn  from  the  phenomena  which  we  now  witness,  has  been 
answered  by  showing  that  the  universe  is  a  mere  general  con- 
ception, having  but  a  fictitious  unity,  and  w^hat  we  are  bound  to 
explain  is  the  origin,  not  of  the  whole,  but  of  all  the  parts  taken 
in  succession.  Adverting,  then,  to  particular  phenomena,  of 
which  we  have  experience,  I  showed  that  the  development  of 
particular  plants  and  animals  from  microscopic  germs,  perfectly 
alike,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  is  a  fact  which  we  cannot  help 
ascribing  to  some  personal  agency,  some  supernatural  or  mirac- 
ulous power ;  for  the  hypothesis,  that  it  is  caused  by  some  invisi- 
ble machinery  in  those 'germs,  is  both  gratuitous  and  incredible  ; 
—  gratuitous,  because  we  have  no  evidence  that  such  ma- 
chinery exists ;  incredible,  because  we  cannot  conceive  of  its 
possibility.  I  showed,  further,  that  the  phenomena  of  the  uni- 
verse, in  so  far  as  they  combine  unity  with  diversity,  order  with 
boundless  variety,  general  laws  with  distinctive  and  peculiar 
effects  not  resembling  each  other,  were  precisely  what  we  should 
expect  from  individual  and  personal  exertion ;  for  these  also 
are  the  cliaracteristics  of  human  action.  The  works  of  intelK- 
gence  show  order  in  their  aggregate,  and  immeasurable  diversity 
in  their  details. 

An  examination  of  the  idea  of  chance  proved  that  it  was  ap- 
plicable, not  to  the  origin,  but  to  the  conjunctions  of  phenomena ; 
60  that  to  ascribe  creation  to  chance  was  not  merely  an  un- 
foimded,  but   an  unmeaning   hypothesis.     On   the   theory  of 


THE    ARGUMENT    FROM    DESIGN.  199 

meclianical  action  and  of  powers  inherent  in  matter,  no  event  is 
fortuitous,  but  every  fact,  even  the  turning  up  of  a  card  in  a 
pack,  or  the  falling  of  dice,  is  the  necessary  result  of  immu- 
table law ;  we  call  it  accidental,  merely  to  mark  our  ignorance 
of  its  cause,  and  not  to  deny  its  causation.  On  the  other  theory, 
that  of  personal  agency,  chance  is  simply  the  opposite,  or  the 
residuum,  of  design  ;  it  by  no  means  implies  absence  of  causa- 
tion, but  simply  that  a  'portion  of  the  effect  was  not  intended  or 
cared  for  by  its  author. 

The  criterion  hy  which  we  distinguish  fortuitous  from  designed 
effects.  —  Hence  we  come,  by  experience,  to  the  knowledge  of 
a  criterion  by  which  we  distinguish  designed  effects  from  those 
which  are  fortuitous,  or  not  designed.      Order,  uniformity,  re- 
semblance to  some  object,  subserviency  to  some  end,  is  this  crite- 
rion.    We  have  ample  experience  of  both  classes  of  effects  ;  our 
induction  is  coextensive  with  all  our  observation  of  our  own 
acts,  those  of  our  fellow-beings,  and  their  results  ;  and  the  dif- 
ference between  the  two  classes  is  so  striking  and  obvious,  that 
a  child  can  see  it,  and  read  its  meaning.     We  contrast,  for  in- 
stance, the  pile   of  rubbish  that  a  machinist  casts  out  of  his 
workshop   with    the  elaborate,    complex,    and   liighly   finished 
engine  that  he  is  fabricating  within  ;  and  if  a  skeptic  should  tell 
us,  that  possibly  as  much  intellect  and  intention,  as  much  dehb- 
erate  purpose,  went  to  the  formation  of  that  refuse  heap  as  of 
that  engine,  or  that  we  had  only  a  contingent,  and  so  an  unsat- 
isfactory, assurance  that  there  was  any  purpose  in  either,  and 
thus  attempt  to  undermine  our  belief  that  there  had  been  any 
artisan  at  work  there,  we  should  deem  either  that  he  was  disor- 
dered in  his  wits,  or  that  he  was  practising  upon  our  credulity. 
How  many  and  how  curious  are  the  adaptations  that  are  found 
m  nature.  —  If,  with  this  criterion  in  hand,  we  come  to  exam- 
ine the  phenomena  of  the  universe  so  far  as  they  do  not  depend 
on  the  agency  of  man,  in  order  to  see  if  there  is  any  evidence  of 
design  in  them,  the  answer  wliich  we  obtain  is  decisive  beyond 
all  cavilling.     We  ask  not  now,  whether  the  several  arrange- 
ments and  results  ever  began  to  be,  and  so  ever  had  a  cause,  or 
required  power  for  their  production ;  that  point  has  been  consid- 


200  THE   ARGUMENT    FROM   DESIGN. 

ered  and  determined  already ;  it  has  been  proved  that  such  a 
cause  was,  and  is,  —  as  otherwise  the  events  themselves  are 
inexplicable.  The  present  question  is,  whether  we  can  find 
probf  that  this  productive  energy  was  guided  by  inteUigence,  was 
exerted  with  reference  to  an  end  which  it  proposed  and  desired 
to  accomplish.  The  answer  is,  that  the  adaptations  which  we 
discover  in  the  world  are  so  curious,  far-reaching,  and  impor- 
tant, and  moreover  so  numerous  among  all  the  arrangements  ol 
matter,  —  they  correspond  so  perfectly  in  their  general  charactei 
to  the  contrivances  of  man  for  attaining  his  objects,  though  they 
far  transcend  such  human  designs  in  wisdom,  that  we  are  irre- 
sistibly led  to  consider  them  as  intentional.  We  can  conceive 
that  one  or  two  slight  adaptations  should  exist,  which  were  not 
designed.  Among  the  multitude  of  stones  upon  a  sea-beach,  for 
instance,  we  may  by  long  search  find  one  or  two  that  are  not 
only  regular  in  form,  but  bear  some  rude  resemblance  to  uten- 
sils or  implements  fashioned  by  man,  so  that  with  some  diffi- 
culty they  may  be  turned  to  useful  purposes.  A  rude  substi- 
stute  for  a  hammer  or  chisel  may  thus  be  discovered.  But 
these  are  lost  among  a  countless  number  of  shapeless  pebbles 
which  can  be  applied  to  no  use. 

Such  is  not  the  character  of  those  physical  arrangements  by 
or  through  which  animal  and  vegetable  life  is  sheltered,  devel- 
oped, and  continued  in  being.  Here,  every  thing  is  artistic; 
every  part,  even  the  minutest,  has  its  use ;  the  whole  forms  one 
system,  every  portion  of  which  is  essential  to  its  perfection,  as, 
by  the  curious  disposition  of  the  interior,  all  the  parts  act  and 
react  upon  each  other.  According  to  a  definition  already 
quoted,  an  organism  is  that  of  which  all  the  parts  are  mutually 
ends  and  means.  So  perfect  is  this  correspondence  of  the  parts 
with  each  other  and  with  the  whole,  that  the  eye  practised  in 
the  study  of  them  can,  from  a  minute  portion,  supply  what  is 
lost,  and  build  again  the  entire  system.  Give  to  the  compara- 
tive anatomist  a  section  of  a  single  tooth,  and  he  will  tell  you  to 
what  animal  it  belongs ;  give  him  one  scale  of  a  fish  that  no 
longer  exists  except  as  imbedded  in  red  sandstone,  and  he  will 
reconstruct  that  fish,  though  he  has  never  seen  its  entire  fossil 


THE    ARGUMENT    FROM    DESIGN.  201 

remains.  Which  is  tlie  worthier  of  admiration  here,  —  the  in- 
tellect which  infers  the  shape  and  organization  of  the  whole 
structure  from  so  small  a  remnant  of  it,  or  that  which  so  fash- 
ioned and  ordered  all  the  parts  with  minute  correspondences 
and  relations,  that  any  one  of  them  is  %key  to  all  the  others? 
Sagacity  and  skill,  in  their  highest  degrees,  were  required  to 
find  the  key  to  the  fabric ;  and  is  there  no  proof  of  intelhgence 
in  the  fabric  itself,  and  in  the  creation  of  the  means  by  which 
the  discovery  was  rendered  possible  ?  As  well  might  we  say 
that  the  ability  to  read  a  book  was  indeed  a  proof  of  intellect, 
but  not  the  ability  to  write  it. 

Arrangements  made  for  future  wants.  —  Design  is  necessa- 
rily prospective ;  it  is  the  adoption   of  means  to  secure  an  end 
not  yet  realized,  or  which  exists  only  in  idea.     It  implies  knowl- 
edge and  skill,  therefore,  for  the  selection  of  the  proper  means, 
and  foresight  of  their  mode  of  operation,  and  of  the  nature  of 
the  end  to  be  obtained.     Now  there  are  certain  arrangrements 
in  the  animal   and   even   in   the  vegetable  kingdom,  which,  as 
they  at  first  exist,  seem  to  answer  no  useful  end  whatever ;  but 
at  a  subsequent  stage  in  the  history  of  the  organism,  when  new 
occasions  or  necessities  have  sprung  up,  they  are  found  to  be 
admirably   adapted  to  some  essential  purposes.     These,  from 
their  prospective  character,  seem  to  afford  the  required  link  of 
proof  that  the  adaptation  was  intentional  or  designed.     Thus, 
the  human  teeth  do  not  grow  till  they  are  needed  by  a  change 
of  food  consequent  on  advance  in  life ;  and  even  the  first  set  of 
teeth,  with  the  alveolar  process,  or  sockets,  which  contain  them, 
which  are  suited  for  the  child's  use,  are  displaced  or  absorbed 
when  the  enlargement  of  the  jaws  renders  them  no  longer  fully 
competent  for  their  office,  and  are  replaced  by  a  new  set,  which 
had  long  been  forming  beneath.     Can  you  believe  that  this 
arrangement  was  not  intended  to  answer  the  purpose  which  it 
actually  does  answer  ? 

Other  arrangements  for  contingent  wants,  or  camialties.  — 
Still  more  strongly  indicative  of  design  are  the  arrangements  to 
meet  certain  wants  which  are  not  only  prospective,  but  contin- 
gent on  the  intelligence  and  freewill  of  another  being,  so  that  it 


202  THE   ARGUMENT   FROM    DESIGN. 

is  doubtful  whether  they  will  ever  exist.  The  casualties  to 
which  the  human  frame  is  subject  are,  to  a  great  extent,  avoid- 
able by  human  care  and  forethought ;  still,  they  often  happen, 
and  there  are  numerous  and  beautiful  arrangements  in  the  sys- 
tem, or  the  animal  economy,  by  which  their  consequences  are 
met  and  repaired.  The  broken  bone  is  again  united  by  the 
matter  which  exudes  from  the  two  extremities,  and  knits  them 
together  even  with  greater  solidity  than  the  limb  possessed  in 
that  part  before,  as  if  to  guard  against  a  repetition  of  the  acci- 
dent. The  bruised  or  diseased  flesh  is  separated  by  a  thickened 
coatiij^g  from  the  sotind  portion7  and  then  thfown  off  by  suppur- 
ation, its  place  being  gradually  taken  by  new  and  sound  tissue. 
The  main  artery,  W'hich  furnishes  a  limb  with  its  chief  supply 
of  blood,  being  tied  up  and  thus  obliterated  by  the  surgeon,  in 
order  to  avoid  the  consequences  of  an  accidental  enlargement, 
collateral  channels  are  made  or  enlarged  by  the  Divine  Helper, 
even  the  direction  of  the  current  in  some  of  them  being  changed, 
so  that  the  limb  again  receives  its  full  supply.  Shall  we  say 
here,  that  the  surgeon,  indeed,  designed  to  stop  up  the  main 
canal,  but  that  there  was  no  purpose  or  intention  in  the  altered 
disposition  of  the  other  parts,  by  which  the  injurious  effects  of 
this  stoppage  were  obviated  ?  It  is  needless  to  enumerate  other 
instances  ;  the  physician  or  the  surgeon  will  tell  you,  that  the 
body  abounds  with  such  adaptations  or  contrivances,  so  that  his 
art  is  little  more  than  waiting  for  their  operation,  and  prevent- 
ing the  unwise  interference  of  the  patient  or  his  friends.  The 
vis  medicatrix,  the  recuperative  and  repairing  force  of  nature, 
is  that  which  lends  nearly  all  its  eflEiciency  to  medical  skill.* 

Means  are  varied  according  to  circumstances,  hut  they  still 
conduce  to  one  end.  —  One  other  class  of  illustrations  of  inten- 
tional effects  in  the  physical  universe,  may  be  aptly  introduced 

*"Gaudet  corpus  vi  prorsus  mirabili,  qua  contra  morbos  se  tueatur; 
multos  arceat ;  multos  jam  inchoatos  quam  optime  et  citissime  solvat ; 
aliosque  suo  modo  ad  feUcem  exitum  lentius  perducat.  Haec  Autocrateia, 
vis  Naturae  medicatrix  vocatur;  medicis,  philosophis  notissima  et  jure 
celeberrima.  Hsec  sola  ad  multos  morbos  sanandos  sufficit,  in  omnibus 
fere  prodest."  —  J.  Gregory. 


THE   ARGUMENT  FROM   DESIGN.  203 

by  a  quotation  from  a  medical  writer  of  approved  authority. 
"  The  intention  of  nature,"  he  observes,  "  can  nowhere  be  so 
well  learned  as  from  comparative  anatomy  ;  that  is,  if  we  would 
understand  physiology,  and  reason  on  the  functions  in  the  ani- 
mal economy,  we  must  see  how  the  same  end  is  brought  about 
in  other  species.  We  must  contemplate  the  part  or  organ  in 
different  animals,  its  shape,  position,  connection  ^vith  the  other 
parts,  etc.,  and  obsei'\^e  what  thence  arises.  If  we  find  one 
common  effect  constantly  produced,  though  in  a  very  different 
way,  then  we  may  safely  conclude  that  this  is  the  use  or  func' 
tion  of  the  part.  This  reasoning  can  never  betray  us,  if  we  are 
but  suro'^f  the  facts." 

Now,  to  apply  this  remark,  compare  together  the  eyes  of  an 
eagle,  a  man,  a  fish,  a  mole,  and  lastly  consider  the  case  of  that 
singular  species  of  fish  which  inhabits  only  the  dark  waters  of  a 
vast  cave,  and  so  has  no  eyes  at  all ;  compare  them,  I  say,  with 
reference  to  the  different  circumstances  in  which  these  several 
animals  are  placed,  and  to  the  adaptations  of  the  organ  to  these 
dfferent  circumstances,  and  see  if  it  be  possible  to  avoid  the  in- 
ference that  the  eye  was  intended  to  see  with.  Here  we  have 
numerous  instances  of  a  concurrence  of  means  to  one  end ;  the 
means  being  varied  just  so  far  as  to  preserve  a  constant  relation 
to  the  several  media  through  which  vision  takes  place,  and  to 
the  purposes  of  the  animal  for  which  sight  is  required.  The 
crystalline  humor  of  the  eyes  of  animals  living  in  water,  to  suit 
the  greater  refractive  power  of  the  surrounding  medium,  is 
made,  not  plano-convex,  as  in  land  animals,  but  spherical. 
Means  are  provided,  in  the  eyelids  and  tears,  for  cleaning  the 
human  eye  from  dust ;  in  the  fish,  this  apparatus  is  unnecessary 
and  is  not  found ;  but  the  mud-crab,  which  seeks  its  food  in  mud 
and  turbid  water,  and  is  thus  liable  to  be  bUnded  by  slime,  has 
a  little  brush  near  the  eye,  against  which  the  prominent  horny 
eye  can  be  raised  and  wiped,  "  with  an  action  as  intelligible  as 
that  of  a  man  wiping  his  spectacles."  The  means  for  cleaning 
the  eyes  should  be  very  abundant  and  efficacious  for  birds,  as 
they  sweep  with  great  velocity  through  great  spaces  of  air,  and 
for  some  quadrupeds  whose  eyes  frequently  come  in  contact 


204  THE    ARGUMENT   FROM   DESIGN. 

■with  dust  and  other  floating  matter.  On  this  account,  their  eyes 
are  provided  with  a  peculiar  membrane,  attached  by  a  slender 
thread  to  a  muscle  placed  in  the  back  part  of  the  eye,  so  as  not 
to  ob.struct  the  vision.  When  this  muscle  contracts,  the  mem- 
brane is  suddenly  drawn  over  the  fore  part  of  the  eye,  sweeping 
it  clean  of  every  particle  of  dust,  and  then,  by  its  own  elasticity, 
falling  back  to  its  original  position.  To  obtain  greater  length 
in  a  less  compass,  the  cord  of  this  muscle  makes  an  angle,  pass- 
ing through  a  loop  formed  by  another  muscle,  and  is  there  in- 
flected, as  if  bent  round  a  pulley  ;  the  second  muscle,  of  course, 
when  it  contracts,  twdtches  the  first  muscle  at  the  point  of  in- 
flection, and  so  assists  the  action  designed  by  both.  "  Every 
one,"  says  Sir  Charles  Bell,  "  who  has  ridden  a  horse  on  a  dusty 
road,  must  have  been  struck  with  the  superior  provision  in  the 
horse's  eye ;  he  never  suffers  from  the  dust,  because  this  car- 
tilage, being  bedewed  with  the  secretion  of  a  peculiar  gland,  — 
not  tears,  but  a  matter  more  glutinous,  —  sweeps  across  the  eye, 
and  collects  and  removes  every  particle  of  dust." 

Such  adaptations  must  have  been  designed.  —  Is  it  credible 
that  this  beautiful  apparatus,  a  delicate  brush  moving  by  the 
reMiiprocal  action  of  a  spring  and  of  force  applied  to  a  slender 
cord  passing  over  a  pulley,  was  not  contrived  for  the  very  pur- 
pose of  removing  injurious  foreign  matter  from  the  eye,  the  lia- 
bility to  such  intrusion  being  foreseen,  and  the  machinery  being 
invented  with  special  reference  to  this  contingency  ?  Suppose 
a  laborer,  obliged  to  work  amid  the  thick  dust  of  a  coal-mine, 
were  found,  on  our  ^dsit  to  the  pit,  though  we  had  never  heard 
of  such  a  contrivance  before,  to  be  provided  with  a  compact 
self-adjusting  macliine,  exactly  resembling  this  membrana  nicti- 
tans,  except  that  it  was  not  permanently  attached  to  his  eyes, 
but  was  put  on  and  off  like  a  pair  of  glasses.  Suppose  the 
wearer  of  it  should  tell  us,  that  it  was  indeed  a  very  convenient 
thing  for  keeping  the  dust  out  of  his  eyes,  but  that  it  was  not 
made  for  this  purpose,  nor  indeed  for  any  purpose  whatever,  but 
was  the  mere  freak  of  an  ingenious  artisan,  who  was  accustomed 
to  make  curious  little  machines  for  no  object  at  all,  except  to 
amuse  himself;  and  that  the  laborer,  visiting  his  museum  one 


THE   ARGUMENT   FROM   DESIGN.  205 

day,  happened  to  see  this  apparatus,  and  perceivmg  that  it 
would  be  useful  for  the  protection  of  his  eyes,  had  purchased  it 
for  this  end.  Should  we  believe  this  extravagant  story  ?  I  am 
not  caricaturing  the  matter  at  all,  but  supplying  what  is,  on  the 
whole,  a  favorable  illustration  of  the  wisdom  and  justice  of  that 
doctrine  which  denies  that  aiiy  adaptations  whatever,  however 
complex,  delicate,  and  exactly  suited  to  the  end,  afford  any 
proof  of  foresight  and  design.  According  to  the  philosophers 
who  entertain  this  doctrine,  all  that  we  are  entitled  to  affirm  is 
the  existence  of  the  apparatus  w4th  all  its  parts,  and  the  accom- 
plishment of  a  certain  end  by  it,  —  that  is,  the  mode  in  which  it 
works ;  for  this  is  all  that  we  see,  all  that  is  visible  on  the  very 
face  of  the  matter.  To  maintain  that  this  end  was  contemplated 
beforehand,  and  desired  hy  some  other  being,  who  devised  these 
peculiar  means  for  obtaining  it,  is  to  assert  a  fact  of  which  we 
have  no  sensible  evidence,  and  to  attribute  motives  to  a  cause 
of  whose  essence  we  are  wholly  ignorant. 

Physical  inquiry  not  limited  to  what  can  be  seen  externally.  — 
Is  it,  then,  a  received  maxim  in  physical  inquiry,  that  our  in- 
vestigations must  be  strictly  limited  to  the  outside  of  the  phe- 
nomena, to  a  mere  description  of  their  external  characteristics, 
and  to  the  law  of  their  succession,  so  that  we  are  never  entitled 
to  infer  the  existence  of  any  fact  which  is  not  directly  visible  ? 
If  so,  this  criticism  is  just,  and  the  argument  from  design  is 
either  wholly  unfounded  and  deceptive,  or  it  cannot  be  classed 
with  the  ordinary  processes  of  inductive  science  whose  correct- 
ness no  one  affects  to  question,  and  %vith  which  it  has  been  my 
purpose  to  show  that  it  is  entirely  coincident.  To  determine 
whether  this  maxim  is  admitted,  I  will  cite  a  passage  from  the 
latest,  and  probably  the  most  judicious  and  profound,  writer  on 
inductive  logic,  who  is  certainly  not  biased  in  favor  of  any  the- 
ological argument,  and  is  not  thinking  of  any  such  argument  in 
the  passage  in  question. 

"  There  is  a  great  difference,"  says  Mr.  Mill,  "  between  in- 
venting laws  of  nature  to  account  for  classes  of  phenomena,  and 
merely  endeavoring,  in  conformity  with  known  laws,  to  conjec- 
ture what  collocations,  now  gone  by,  may  have  given  birth  to 

18 


206  THE    ARGUMENT   FROM    DESIGN> 

individual  facts  still  in  existence.  The  latter  is  the  strictty 
legitimate  operation  of  infen-ing,  from  an  observed  effect,  the 
existence,  in  time  past,  of  a  came  similar  to  that  by  which  we 
know  it  to  he  produced  in  all  cases  in  which  we  have  had  actual 
experience  of  its  origin.''  Is  it  possible  to  give,  in  abstract  lan- 
guage, a  more  precise  description  of  the  case  in  hand  ?  We 
have  had  actual  experience,  both  in  our  own  works,  and  by  ob- 
serving those  of  our  fellow  men,  of  complex  contrivances,  or 
designed  adaptations  to  an  end;  and  we  have  compared  or 
contrasted  these  with  the  unintentional  collocations  of  matter 
which  are  also  attributable  to  human  agency.  With  the  light 
gained  from  this  comparison,  when  we  come  to  observe  physical 
effects  and  arrangem^fs,  perfectly  similar  to  these  designed 
adaptations,  and  strongly  contrasted  with  the  unintentional 
groupings,  we  infer  the  existence,  in  time  past,  of  a  cause  similar 
to  that  which  produced  the  effects  of  which  we  have  full  knowl- 
edge,—  that  isy  an  intelligent  and  designing  cause. 

Judicial  and  geological  inferences  compared  with  iho^e  of 
natural  theology.  —  I  go  on  now  with  the  extract  from  Mr.  IVIilf, 
to  show  what  class  of  cases  he  had  in  view  in  making  this 
remark,  and  because  these  cases  are  apt  illustrations,  perfect 
parallels,  of  the  argument  from  design.  "  This,  for  example,"" 
he  says,  "  is  the  scope  of  the  inquiries  of  geology ;  and  they 
are  no  more  illogical  or  visionary  than  judicial  inquiries,  which 
also  aim' at  discovering  a  past  event  by  inference  from  those  of 
its  effects  which  still  subsist.  As  we  can  ascertain  whether  a 
man  was  murdered,  or  died  a  natural  death,  from  the  indications 
exhibited  by  the  corpse,  the  presence  or  absence  of  the  signs 
of  struggling  on  the  ground  or  on  the  adjacent  objects,  the 
marks  of  blood,  the  footsteps  of  the  supposed  murderers,  and 
so  on,  proceeding  throughout  upon  uniformities  ascertained  by 
a  perfect  induction  without  any  mixture  of  hypothesis ;  so,  if 
we  find,  on  or  beneath  the  surface  of  our  planet,  masses  exactly 
similar  to  deposits  from  water,  or  to  results  of  the  cooling  of 
matter  melted  by  fire,  we  may  justly  conclude  that  such  has 
been  their  origin  ;  and  if  the  effects,  though  similar  in  kind,  are 
on  a  far  larger  scale  than  any  which  are  produced  now,  we  may 


THE    ARGUMENT    FROM    DESIGN.  207 

rationally,  and  without  hypothesis,  conclude  that  the  causes 
existed  formerly  with  greater  intensity."  And  so,  I  add,  if  we 
find,  on  the  surface  of  our  planet,  adaptations  exactly  similar  to 
arrangements  known  to  be  designed  by  man,  we  may  justly 
conclude  that  intelligence  was  concerned  in  the  formation  of 
both ;  and  if  these,  though  similar  in  kind,  are  on  a  far  larger 
scale  than  any  which  are  produced  by  man,  we  may  rationally, 
and  without  hypothesis,  conclude,  that  the  intelligence  which 
produced  them  was  of  a  higher  order  than  the  human  under- 
standing. 

Mr.  Mill  further  observes,  that  "  in  the  speculation  respect- 
ing the  igneous  origin  of  trap  or  granite,  the  fact  does  not 
admit  of  direct  proof,  that  those  substances  have  been  actually 
subjected  to  intense  heat.  But  the  same  thing  might  be  said 
of  all  judicial  inquiries  which  proceed  upon  circumstantial 
evidence.  We  can  conclude  that  a  man  was  murdered,  although 
it  is  not  proved  by  the  testimony  of  eyewitnesses  that  a  man 
who  had  the  intention  of  murdering  him  was  present  on  the 
spot.  It  is  enough,  if  no  other  hioivn  cause  could  have  generated 
the  effects  shown  to  have  been  produced.^'  Here,  again,  the  paral- 
lel is  complete.  Certainly  we  have  no  direct  proof,  no  testimony 
of  eyewitnesses,  that  the  Deity  was  present  in  person  before 
these  effects  followed,  and  that  he  intended  to  produce  them. 
It  is  enough  for  us  to  know,  from  our  owii  experience  and  from 
that  of  the  whole  human  family,  that  these  effects  could  not 
have  followed  except  from  intelligent  action,  from  a  personal 
cause ;  there  is  no  other  known  cause  adequate  to  their  produc- 
tion. 

Accumulation  of  instances  not  needed  ;  the  reasoning  strictly 
logical.  —  It  forms  no  part  of  my  plan,  you  will  perceive,  to 
enter  into  a  full  exposition  of  the  proofs  from  design,  detailing 
their  number  and  variety,  and  thus  aiming  to  produce  convic- 
tion by  their  cumulative  effect.  The  examples  that  I  have 
adduced  are  intended  to  show  only  the  nature  of  the  argument, 
its  logical  efficiency,  and  therefore  they  have  been  designedly 
taken  from  the  most  familiar  treatises  on  Natural  Theology. 
Strictly  speaking,  an  accumulation  of  them  is  not  needed ;  for 


208  THE    ARGUMENT    FROM    DESIGN. 

if  one  undoubted  instance  of  the  designed  adaptation  of  means 
to  ends  can  be  produced,  then  an  intelhgcnt  creative  Deity  must 
exist.  If  one  fact  alone,  among  all  the  circumstances  enumerated 
by  Mr.  ]\Iill,  proves  incontestably  that  the  man  was  murdered, 
the  consideration  of  the  other  traces  of  violence  may  be  entirely 
omitted.  Those  who  wish  to  enter  into  the  argument  in  detail 
may  find  all  that  they  n«ed  in  Paley's  excellent  and  unsurpassed 
exposition  of  it,  two  chapters  of  w^hich,  for  this  purpose,  are 
worth  all  the  Bridgewater  Treatises  put  together.  But  an 
undefined  impression,  a  lurking  doubt,  exists  in  many  minds, 
fostered,  if  not  created,  by  some  popular  metaphysical  specula- 
tions, that  there  is  a  fundamental  defect  in  this  reasoning,  an 
illogical  assumption,  which  is  carefully  suppressed,  or  winked 
out  of  view,  by  those  who  are  conscious  that  there  is  no  other 
mode  of  getting  rid  of  it.  This  is  skepticism,  the  more  danger- 
ous because  it  is  wavering  and  indefinite  ;  for  the  doubt  is  enter- 
tained by  many  who  do  not  even  know  what  the  alleged  defect 
is.  It  is  this  vague  impression  which  I  have  labored  to  confute, 
and  for  this  purpose  I  have  entered  into  a  minute  and  probably 
tedious  examination  of  the  logical  structure  of  the  argument, 
comparing  it  with  the  evidence  on  which  all  physical  science 
depends.  The  result  is,  that  it  is  perfectly  coincident  with  such 
evidence ;  it  is  of  the  same  kind,  though  vastly  superior  in 
degree. 

Certain  assumptions  are  necessary  in  all  reasoning.  —  As  to 
the  alleged  defect,  the  supposed  assumption  which  is  made,  not 
only  in  the  argument  from  design,  but  in  all  the  truths  of  physi- 
cal science,  and  in  the  regulation  of  our  daily  conduct,  a  very 
few  words  will  suffice  to  explain  its  character.  In  all  these 
cases,  we  take  it  for  granted  that  the  human  faculties  are  ade- 
quate to  their  work,  that  memory  is  not  always  confounded  with 
imagination,  that  from  similar  effects  we  may  infer  the  presence 
of  similar  causes ;  and  when  we  have  no  direct  sensible  evidence 
that  a  certain  object  exists,  or  a  certain  event  has  taken  place, 
we  may  still  learn  the  fact  from  some  unquestionable  indica- 
tions of  its  reality.  These  are  assumptions ;  and  though  the 
skeptic  in  words  may  deny  them,  in  action  he  admits  them  with- 


THE    ARGUMENT    FROM    DESIGN.  209 

ojt  hesitation.  If  the  evidence  on  which  the  theist  relies  were 
multiplied  a  thousand-fold,  it  would  still  be  chargeable  with  the 
defect  which  we  are  now  considering,  and  consistency  would 
require  the  unbeliever  still  to  reject  it.  I  find  this  fact  so  clearly 
admitted  and  set  forth  by  the  chief  of  English  skeptics,  by 
Hume  himself,  that  it  is  worth  while  to  quote  the  passage.  In 
the  Dialogues  to  which  I  have  already  referred,  after  Philo  has 
been  arguing  for  some  time,  with  great  subtilty  and  ingenuity, 
against  these  assumptions,  Cleanthes  breaks  out,  with  some  im- 
patience :  — 

"  Your  objections,  I  must  freely  tell  you,  are  no  better  than 
the  abstruse  cavils  of  those  philosophers  who  denied  motion ; 
and  ought  to  be  refuted  in  the  same  manner,  by  illustrations, 
examples,  and  instances,  rather  than  by  serious  argument  and 
philosophy.  Suppose,  therefore,  that  an  articulate  voice  were 
heard  in  the  clouds,  much  louder  and  more  melodious  than  any 
which  human  art  could  ever  reach :  Suppose  that  this  voice 
were  extended  in  the  same  instant  over  all  nations,  and  spoke 
to  each  nation  in  its  own  language  and  dialect :  Suppose  that 
the  words  delivered  not  only  contain  a  just  sense  and  meaning, 
but  convey  some  instructions  altogether  worthy  of  a  benevolent 
being  superior  to  mankind :  Could  you  possibly  hesitate  a  mo- 
ment concerning  the  cause  of  this  voice,  and  must  you  not 
instantly  ascribe  it  to  some  design  or  purpose  ?  Yet  I  cannot 
see  but  all  the  same  objections  (if  they  merit  that  appellation), 
which  lie  against  the  system  of  Theism,  may  also  be  produced 
against  this  inference. 

"  Might  you  not  say,  that  all  conclusions  concerning  fact  were 
founded  on  experience ;  and  that,  when  we  hear  an  articulate 
voice  in  the  dark,  and  thence  infer  a  man,  it  is  only  the  resem- 
blance of  the  effects  which  leads  us  to  conclude  that  there  is  a 
like  resemblance  in  the  causes ;  but  that  this  extraordinary  voice, 
by  its  loudness,  extent,  and  flexibility  to  all  languages,  bears  so 
little  analogy  to  any  human  voice,  that  we  have  no  reason  to 
suppose  any  analogy  in  their  causes ;  and  consequently,  that  a 
rational,  wise,  coherent  speech  proceeded,  you  know  not  whence, 

18* 


210  THE   ARGUMENT    FROM    DESIGN. 

from  some  accidental  whistling  of  the  winds,  not  from  any 
Divine  reason  or  intelligence?  You  see  clearly  your  own 
objections  in  these  cavils,  and  I  hope,  too,  you  see  clearly,  that 
they  cannot  possibly  have  more  force  in  the  one  case  than  in 
the  other." 

The  argument  is  a  simple  and  obvious  one.  —  The  idea  that 
there  was  a  lurking  difficulty  in  the  argument,  which  theologians 
willingly  avoided,  seems  to  have  proceeded  from  the  fact,  that  it 
appeals  to  common  sense  and  the  plain  instincts  of  our  nature, 
while  the  objections  to  it  are  abstruse,  far-fetched,  and  refined. 
It  needs  some  study  to  perceive  that  they  are,  at  least  to  an 
equal  extent,  shallow  and  sophistical,  as  they  rest  solely  on  the 
mistaken  notion,  that  metaphysical  reasoning  is  applicable  to 
matters-of-fact.  What  would  be  thought  of  the  wisdom,  or 
even  the  sanity,  of  the  mathematician  who,  having  found  from 
the  calculus  what  must  he  the  form  of  a  body  which  is  to  move 
through  a  fluid  with  the  least  possible  resistance,  and  having 
ascertained  also,  (what  happens  to  be  true,)  that  his  abstract 
conclusions  are  rebutted  by  simple  and  decisive  experiments, 
should  yet  adhere  to  his  results  as  available  for  practical  pur- 
poses, on  the  ground  that  they  were  supported  by  demonstra- 
tion, while  they  were  not  contradicted  except  by  the  evidence 
of  the  senses,  which  is  a  source  only  of  contingent  assurance  ? 
The  child  or  the  savage  knows  that  facts  are  a  test  of  reasoning, 
and  not  reaso'aing  of  facts.  "  Is  it  not  fitting,"  said  a  savage 
of  Sumatra  to  his  companion,  showing  him  a  watch  that  had 
been  made  in  Europe,  "  that  a  people  such  as  we  should  be  the 
slaves  of  a  nation  capable  of  forming  such  a  machine  ?  The 
sun,"  he  added,  "  is  a  machine  of  the  same  nature."  "  And 
who  winds  him  up  ?  "  asked  his  companion.  "  Who,"  replied 
he, "  but  Allah."  Thus  it  is,  as  Paley  remarks,  that  these  proofs 
"  are  sufficiently  open  to  the  views  and  capacities  of  the  un- 
learned, at  the  same  time  that  they  acquire  new  strength  and 
lustre  from  the  discoveries  of  the  learned.  If  they  had  been 
altogether  abstruse  and  recondite,  they  would  not  have  found 
their  way  to  the  understandings  of  the  mass  of  mankind ;  if 


THE   AEaUMENT   FROM   DESIGN.  211 

they  had  been  merely  popular,  they  might  have  wanted  solid- 

ity." 

Why  tJie  Creator  works  by  means  and  ageticies.  —  But  it  is  said, 
that  the  use  of  means  to  an  end  implies  tlie  existence  of  diiS- 
culties  and  obstacles,  and  so  leads  to  a  supposition  of  defect  of 
power ;  contrivances  are  human  conceptions  to  get  rid  indirectly 
of  obstacles  which  we  are  not  able  immediately  to  remove  by  a 
simple  act  of  the  will ;  therefore  they  cannot  rightly  be  attrib- 
uted to  Omnipotence,  which  is  always  adequate  to  the  direct 
accomplishment  of  its  ends.  Thus,  a  child  must  use  a  lever  to 
raise  a  weight  which  the  adult  lifts  at  once  without  effort ;  the 
boy  must  stand  in  a  chair  to  arrive  at  an  object  tliat  is  within 
reach  of  his  parent's  arm.  It  is  hardly  enough  to  say,  simply, 
that  it  has  pleased  the  Almighty  to  work  by  means  and  agen- 
cies, instead  of  directly  accomplishing  his  purposes,  unless  we 
can  supply  some  reason  for  this  preference  which  shall  be  con- 
sistent with  infinite  wisdom.  I  answer,  then,  that  we  immedi- 
ately discover  such  a  reason,  if  we  bring  in  the  idea  of  the  moral 
governm,ent  of  man,  a  creature  endowed  with  intellect  and  con- 
science, and  left  to  complete  his  earthly  education  and  proba- 
tion by  his  own  freewill.  The  ultimate  purpose  of  a,ll  these 
contrivances,  then,  is,  that  the  study  of  them  may  lead  us  up  to 
a  knowledge  of  the  existence  and  attributes  of  their  Infinite 
Author.  And  further,  for  the  regulation  of  our  daily  conduct, 
in  order  that  we  may  infer  the  future  from  the  past,  it  is  neces- 
sary that  the  course  of  nature,  or  the  action  of  Deity,  should  be 
uniform,  or,  in  other  words,  that  it  should  be  governed  by  gen- 
eral laws.  ^'  It  has  been  said,  that  the  problem  of  creation  was, 
^Attraction  and  matter  being  given,  to  make  a  world  out  of 
them.'"  How  could  we  act  at  all,  self-guided,  unless  from 
reliance  on  the  constantly  recurring  and  uniform  phenom- 
ena of  gravitation,  light,  heat,  chemical  affinity,  and  the  like  ? 
"  These,"  to  quote  again  from  Paley,  "  are  general  laws  ;  and 
when  a  particular  purpose  is  to  be  effected,  it  is  not  by  making 
a  new  law,  nor  by  the  suspension  of  the  old  ones,  nor  by 
making  them  -vvind,  and  bend,  and  yield  to  the  occasion ;  but  it 
is  by  the  interposition  of  an  apparatus  corresponding  with  these 


212  THE   ARGUMENT   FROM    DESIGN. 

laws,  and  suited  to  the  exigency  which  results  from  them,  that 
the  purpose  is  at  length  attained."  * 

The  assumption  of  design  a  fruitful  pri^iciple  in  physical  sci' 
ence.  —  That  final  causes,  or  the  purposes  for  which  numberless 
arrangements  and  adaptations  were  made,  qan  be  discerned  in 
natm'e,  is  not  only  a  principle  in  Natural  Theology,  but  a  re- 
ceived doctrine,  and  a  fruitful  one,  in  physical  science,  especially 
in  the  departments  of  physiology  and  zoology,  in  which  it  has 
been  a  guide  to  the  most  important  discoveries.  Thus,  Harvey, 
in  1616,  having  learned  that  there  wei'e  valves  in  ihQ  veins, 
which  opened  towards  the  heart,  and  thus  permitted  the  blood 

*  "  Is  it  nothing  more  than  a  lucky  accommodation  Avhich  makes  the 
polarity  of  the  needle  to  subserve  the  purposes  of  the  mariner  ?  Or  may  iS 
not  safely  be  affirmed,  both  that  the  magnetic  iiifluenee  (whatever  its  pri- 
mary intention  maybe)  had  reference  to  the  business  of  navigation  —  a 
reference  incalculably  important  to  the  spread  and  improvement  of  the 
human  race  ;  and  that  the  discovery  and  the  application  of  this  influence 
aiTived  at  the  destined  moment  in  the  revolution  of  human  affairs,  when, 
in  combination  with  other- events,  it  would  produce  the  greatest  effect  ? 
Nor  should  we  scruple  to  affirm,  that  the  relation  between  the  inclinatioii 
of  the  earth's  axis  and  the  conspicuous  star  which,  without  a  near  rival, 
attracts  even  the  eye  of  the  vulgar,  and  shows  the  north  to  the  wanderer  on 
the  wilderness,  or  on  the  ocean,  is  in  like  manner  a  beneficent  arrangement. 
Those  who  would  spurn  the  supposition  that  the  celestial  locality  of  a  sun, 
immeasurably  remote  from  our  system,  should  have  reference  to  the  ac- 
commodation of  the  inhabitants  »f  a  planet  so  inconsiderable  as  our  own, 
forget  the  stijie  of  the  divine  works,  which  is,  to  sesure  some  great  or  principal 
end,  compatibly  with  ten  thoiisarjd  lesser  and  remote  interests.  Man,  if  he  would 
secure  the  greater,  must  neglect  or  sacrifice  the  less  :  not  so  the  Omnipo- 
tent Contriver.  It  is  a  fact  full  of  meaning  that  those  astronomical  phe- 
nomena, (and  so  othei*s),  vfhich  offer  themselves  as  available  for  the  pur- 
poses of  art,  —  as,  for  instance,  of  navigation  or  geography,  —  do  not  fully 
or  effectively  yield  the  aid  they  promised,  until  after  long  and  elaborate 
processes  or  calculations  have  disentangled  them  from  variations,  disturb- 
ing forces,  and  apparent  irregularities.  To  the  rude  fact,  if  so  we  might 
designate  it,  a  mass  of  recondite  science  must  be  appended,  before  it  can 
be  brought  to  bear  with  precision  upon  the  arts  of  life.  Thus,  the  polarity 
of  the  needle,  or  the  eclipses  of  Jupiter's  moons,  are  as  nothing  to  ths 
mariner  or  the  geographer,  without  the  voluminous  commentary  af- 
forded by  the  mathematics  of  astronomy."  —  Taylor's  Introduction  to 
Edwards,  p.  oxxxvii. 


THE    ARGUMENT    FROM    DESIGN.  213 

to  pass  in  this  direction,  while  they  would  prevent  its  passage 
towards  the  extremities,  and  that  the  valves  at  the  exit  of  the 
arteries  from  the  heart  opened  in  the  opposite  direction,  assumed 
that  these  valves  must  have  been  intended  to  allow  and  direct 
the  movement  of  the  blood,  and  was  thus  led  to  the  capital  dis- 
covery of  the  circulation.  To  prove  the  fact,  he  tied  the  veins, 
and  found  that  they  swelled  on  the  side  nearer  the  extremities ; 
he  tied  the  arteries,  and  found  that  they  swelled  on  the  side 
nearer  the  heart.  It  would  be  easy  to  show,  that  nearly  all  the 
great  discoveries  which  have  been  made  in  physiology  since 
Harvey's  time,  have  proceeded  from  this  same  doctrine,  —  from 
the  assumption,  that  is,  that  no  part  of  the  body  exists  without 
some  use,  or  function,  which  it  was  designed  to  fulfil.  Observe, 
that  here  it  is  not  a  knowledge  of  the  adaptation  which  sug- 
gests the  purpose,  but  an  assumption  of  the  purpose  which  leads 
to  a  knowledge  of  the  adaptation,  or  use.* 

To  show  the  fruitful  application  of  the  same  principle  in 


*  "In  Biology  alone,"  observes  Bichat,  "have  we  to  contemplate  the 
state  of  disease.  Physiology  is  to  the  movements  of  living  bodies,  what 
astronomy,  dynamics,  hydi-aulics,  etc.,  are  to  those  of  inert  matter :  but 
these  latter  sciences  have  no  branches  which  correspond  to  them  as 
pathology  corresponds  to  physiology.  For  the  same  reason,  all  no- 
tion of  a  medicament  is  repugnant  to  the  physical  sciences.  A  medica- 
ment has  for  its  object  to  bring  the  properties  of  the  system  back  to  their 
natural  type ;  but  the  physical  properties  never  depart  from  this  type, 
and  have  no  need  to  be  brought  back  to  it ;  and  thus  there  is  nothing  in 
the  physical  sciences  which  holds  the  place  of  therapeutics  in  physiology  :  " 
"  or,"  Dr.  Whewell  justly  adds,  "  as  we  might  express  it  otherwise,  of  inert 
forces  we  have  no  conception  of  what  they  o^ight  to  do,  except  what  they 
do.  The  forces  of  gravity,  elasticity,  affinity,  never  act  in  a  diseased  man- 
ner ;  we  never  conceive  them  as  failing  in  their  purpose  ;  for  we  do  not 
conceive  tliem  as  having  any  purpose,  which  is  answered  by  one  mode  of 
their  action  rather  than  another.  But  with  organical  forces,  the  case  is 
different ;  they  are  necessarily  conceived  as  acting  for  the  preservation  and 
development  of  the  system  in  which  they  reside.  If  they  do  not  do  this, 
they  fail,  they  are  deranged,  diseased.  They  have  for  their  object  to  con- 
form the  living  being  to  a  certain  type  ;  and  if  they  cause  or  allow  it  to 
deviate  from  tliis  type,  their  action  is  distorted,  morbid,  contrary  to  the 
ends  of  nature.    And  thus  tliis  conception  of  organized  beings  as  suscep- 


214  THE    ARGUMENT    FROM   DESIGN. 

zoological  researches,  I  have  only  to  borrow  the  language  of  the 
illustrious  Cuvier,  at  the  commencement  of  his  great  work  on 
the  Animal  Kingdom.  "  Zoology,"  he  says,  "  has  a  principle  of 
reasoning  which  is  peculiar  to  it,  and  which  it  employs  with  ad- 
vantage on  many  occasions  ;  this  is  the  principle  of  the  conditions 
of  existence,  vulgarly  called  the  principle  of  final  causes.  As 
nothing  can  exist,  if  it  do  not  combine  all  the  conditions  which 
render  its  existence  possible,  the  different  parts  of  each  being 
must  be  ari*anged  in  such  a  manner  as  to  render  the  total  being 
possible,  not  only  in  itself,  but  in  its  relations  to  those  which 
surround  it ;  and  the  analysis  of  these  conditions  often  leads  to 
general  laws,  as  clearly  demonstrated  as  those  which  result  from 
calculation  or  experience."  Thus,  "  If  the  viscera  of  an  ani- 
mal are  so  organized  as  only  to  be  fitted  for  the  digestion  of 
recent  fiesh,  it  is  also  requisite  that  the  jaws  should  be  so  con- 
structed as  to  fit  them  for  devouring  prey ;  the  claws  must  be 
constructed  for  seizing  and  tearing  it  in  pieces ;  the  teeth,  for 
cutting  and  dividing  its  flesh ;  the  entire  system  of  the  Hmbs  or 
organs  of  motion,  for  pursuing  and  overtaking  it;  and  the 
organs  of  sense,  for  discovering  it  at  a  distance.  Nature  must 
also  have  endowed  the  brain  of  the  animal  with  instincts  sufii- 
cient  for  concealing  itself,  and  for  laying  plans  to  catch  its  neces- 
sary victims."  "  By  such  considerations,"  adds  Mr.  Whewell, 
Cuvier  "  has  been  able  to  reconstruct  the  whole  of  many  ani- 
mals of  which  parts  only  were  given  ;  —  a  positive  result,  which 
shows  both  the  reahty  and  the  value  of  the  truth  on  which  he 
wrought." 

Natural  theology  is  knowledge ;  infidelity  is  ignorance.  — 
Thus  it  appears  that  the  theological  argument  from  design  is 
not  merely  coincident  in  character,  and  of  the  same  logical 
force,  with  the  principles  of  physical  science,  but  it  is  identical 

tible  of  disease,  implies  the  recognition  of  a  state  of  health,  and  of  the  or- 
gans and  vital  forces  as  means  for  preserving  this  normal  condition.  The 
state  of  health  and  perpetual  development  is  necessarily  contemplated  as 
the  Final  Cause  of  the  processes  and  powers  with  which  the  different  parts 
of  plants  and  animals  are  endowed." — Philosophy  of  the  Ind.  Sciences,  Vol. 
I.  p.  627. 


THE   ARGUMENT   FROM   DESIGN.  215 

vdth  many  of  those  principles.  It  is  one  and  the  same  maxim, 
or  law  of  inquiry,  which  guides  the  anatomist  to  a  knowledge  of 
many  parts  of  an  animal  structure  that  he  has  never  seen,  and 
leads  the  seeker  after  religious  truth  to  a  recognition  of  the 
being,  the  wisdom,  and  the  beneficence  of  a  God.  It  furnishes 
him,  also,  with  an  explanation  of  the  mysteries  of  that  universe 
which  he  inhabits,  with  a  key  to  the  true  purpose  and  cliaracter 
of  those  marvellous  arrangements  and  adaptations  in  the  midst 
of  which  he  lives,  and  on  which,  indeed,  his  existence  depends. 
If  the  phenomena  of  nature  were  not  arranged  by  an  all-wise 
Providence,  if  this  earth  does  not  show  the  footprints  of  Divin- 
ity, then  those  phenomena  are  inexplicable,  and  the  origin  and 
tendency  of  all  things  are  surrounded  by  a  veil  which  no  human 
eye  can  pierce.  Our  hfe  itself  is  but  "  a  confused  noise  between 
two  silences  ; "  we  emerge  from  the  darkness  at  one  end,  only  to 
find  ourselves  surrounded  with  wonders  whose  meaning  we  can- 
not fathom,  and  then  to  pass  again  into  the  thick  gloom  whose 
portal  is  the  grave.  Infidelity  offers  us  no  compensation  or  sub-|f 
stitute  for  the  light  that  it  extinguishes,  for  the  faith  which  it 
destroys ;  it  accounts  for  nothing,  it  explains  nothing ;  it  is  a 
mere  confession  of  blank,  hopeless  ignorance.  We  can  find, 
not  a  refuge,  but  a  resting-place,  either  in  the  appaUing  system 
of  Spinoza,  under  the  iron  rule  of  fatalism,  which  deprives  us 
alike  of  the  consciousness  of  our  own  personality,  and  of  all 
motive  for  action  or  effort,  or  in  the  absolute  skepticism  of 
Hume,  which  is  mere  negation  and  darkness,  where  we  have  no 
assurance  even  of  the  grounds  of  disbelief.  The  doctrine  of 
theism  dissipates  this  gloom ;  it  supplies  a  reason  for  exertion, 
and  objects  for  study ;  it  is  a  vindication  of  the  possibility  of 
human  knowledge.  It  can  be  overthrown  only  by  a  denial  of 
that  possibility. 

Theology  needed  to  Jill  up  our  knowledge  of  nature.  —  What 
we  call  nature  is  an  assemblage  of  objects,  and  a  succession  of 
events.  These  objects  are  not  simple  and  uniform,  but  complex, 
varied,  and  curiously  fashioned,  abounding  in  curious  adjust- 
ments and  nice  arrangements  of  parts.  The  events  do  not  suc- 
ceed each  other  irregularly,  or  seemingly  at  random,  but  in  a 


216  THE    ARGUMENT   FROM    DESIGN', 

fixed  order,  preserving  harmonious  relations,  which  enable  us  to 
divine  the  future  from  the  past.  In  spite  of  our  life-long  fa- 
miliarity "with  these  marvels,  and  the  petrifying  influence  of  such 
continuous  observation  upon  our  feelings  of  wonder  and  admira- 
tion, we  cannot  rest  contented  with  the  slender  knowledge  which 
we  gain  of  them  merely  from  tlie  senses,  —  that  is,  with  a 
record  of  their  occurrence,  and  a  description  of  their  successive 
changes  and  outward  aspects.  An  irresistible  impulse  leads  us 
to  inquire  into  their  orig^in,  meaning,  and  tendency.  Whence 
are  they,  and  why  do  they  exist  ?  Human  science  alone,  with- 
out any  aid  from  theology,  without  any  light  from  above,  has  no 
answer  to  these  questions,  and,  when  properly  understood,  does 
not  even  attempt  to  answer  them.  It  describes  the  phenomena, 
as  they  are  seen,  with  greater  or  less  minuteness,  it  records  the 
order  of  their  succession,  and  it  assumes  the  invariability  of  this 
order,  or  its  continuance  in  the  future  and  the  past.  It  describes 
and  classifies  facts,  and  supposes  the  existence  of  similar  facts ; 
*nd  this  is  all.  With  a  kind  of  dim  consciousness,  indeed,  that 
these  results  do  not  exhaust  the  subject,  or  satisfy  the  demands 
of  rational  curiosity,  it  holds  up  the  laws  of  phenomena  as  sub- 
stitutes for  their  causes,  in  a  vain  attempt  to  explain  their  origin. 
But  these  physical  causes,  as  they  are  termed,  cannot  pass  for 
real  ones ;  for  the  manner  in  which  an  event  takes  place  does 
not  show  the  reason  of  its  occurrence,  or  give  us  any  informa- 
tion of  the  power  that  produced  it. 

How  our  view  of  iiature  is  affected  by  a  knowledge  of  its  Au- 
thor. —  The  great  fact  of  the  existence  of  an  omnipresent  and 
ever-active  Deity,  the  author,  supporter,  and  immediate  cause 
of  all  things,  affords  the  only  possible  answer  to  these  inquiries, 
the  only  key  which  will  open  the  secrets  and  the  mysteries  of 
the  universe.  That  this  doctrine  first  gives  distinctness  to  our 
conceptions  by  explaining  the  fact  of  creation,  or  the  origin  of 
things,  is  an  insufficient  statement  of  its  importance ;  it  solves 
the  far  more  difficult  problem  respecting  the  continuance,  mean- 
ing, and  tendency  of  those  objects  and  events  which  mere  human 
science  only  observes  and  records.  It  answers  the  questions 
why  and  wherefore  for  all  the  phenomena  of  time  and  space. 


THE   ARGUMENT   FROM   DESIGN.  217 

Adaptations  now  reveal  a  purpose ;  nice  adjustments  show  de- 
sign. We  are  not  limited  now  to  a  mere  description  of  the  organ, 
and  of  the  office  which  it  actually  performs ;  we  can  point  to  its 
Creator,  and  tell  why  it  exists,  and  what  object  it  was  intended 
to  answer.  "We  can  assume  beforehand  that  every  thing,  down 
to  the  minutest  fibre  of  the  humblest  organism,  has  a  purpose, 
or  a  final  cause,*  since  infinite  wisdom  does  nothing  in  vain. 
We  can  even  assume  that  creation  is  formed  throughout  upon 
one  plan,  and  directed  by  a  single  purpose ;  and  we  find  that 
this  is  an  intelligible  plan,  a  discoverable  purpose.  Here  is  not 
only  a  positive  enlargement  of  our  knowledge,  but  a  guide  and 
object  for  our  subsequent  inquiries.  Those  who  reject  the  doc- 
trine which  furnishes  this  guide  may  content  themselves,  if  they 
can,  with  those  hmitations  which  so  eminent  a  naturalist  as 
Geoffroy  St.  Hilaire  proposed  for  the  bounds  of  his  studies. 
"  I  take  good  care,"  he  says,  "  not  to  ascribe  any  intention  to 
God,  for  I  mistrust  the  feeble  powers  of  my  reason.  I  observe 
facts  merely,  and  go  no  further.  I  only  pretend  to  the  character 
of  the  historian  of  what  is.  I  cannot  make  nature  an  intelli- 
gent being  who  does  nothing  in  vain."     This  is  the  frank  avowal 

*  The  use  of  the  plirase  ^?iaZ  cause,  to  express  the  end,  purpose,  or  inten- 
tion for  which  a  thing  is  made  or  done,  has  been  so  long  established  by- 
philosophical  writers,  that  it  would  savor  of  affectation  to  renounce  it 
altogether.  Yet  as  IVIr.  De  Morgan  remarks,  to  talk  oi  final  causes  is  as 
unintelligible  to  most  persons  as  to  talk  of  final  beginnings. 

To  understand  the  phrase,  we  must  remember  that  the  word  cause  was 
used  by  the  ancients  in  a  very  wide  sense,corresponding  to  the  causa  of  the 
Latins,  tlie  cosa  of  the  Italians,  and  the  chose  of  the  French ;  it  signified  the 
matter  or  concern  which  is  transacted,  spoken,  written,  or  contended  about. 
To  remove  the  indefiniteness  arising  from  this  comprehensive  significar 
tion,  Aristotle  properly  distinguished  four  sorts  of  causes,  (French,  chases, 
English,  things) ;  he  distinguished  material,  formal,  efficient,  and  final  (Latin, 
finis,  English,  end)  causes.  The  material  cause  is  the  very  matter  out  of 
which  a  thing  is  made,  considered  as  the  principle  of  its  existence  ;  the 
fomal  cause  is  the  internal  constitution  of  a  thing  —  that  which  makes  it 
what  it  is  ;  the  efficient  cause  corresponds  to  the  English  use  of  the  word, 
as  it  signifies  the  maker  or  author  of  a  thing,  or  that  which  really  pro- 
duces it ;  the  final  cause,  as  we  have  said,  is  the  end  or  purpose  for  which 
it  was  made.     To  understand  the  difference  between  matei-ial  and  formal 

19 


218  THE   ARGUMENT   FEOM   DESIGN. 

of  the  skeptic  who  is  willing  to  remain  in  his  ignorance,  even 
after  the  brilliant  discoveries  of  Cuvier  had  shown  the  fruitful- 
ness  of  the  opposite  mode  of  inquiry. 

Physical  events,  as  they  appear  to  the  theologian  and  the  sheptic. 
—  Still  more  striking  and  important  is  the  change  made  in  our 
notions  of  the  succession  of  events,  by  this  doctrine  of  the  con- 
stant presence  and  agency  of  the  Supreme  Being.  The  power 
that  operates  in  nature  is  no  longer  unseen  and  undiscoverable ; 
physical  occurrences  do  not  follow  each  other  by  any  inscrutable 
mechanism,  or  by  a  bUnd  and  unconscious  fatality.  In  the 
countless  aspects  and  ceaseless  changes  of  the  world  without  us, 
we  no  longer  behold  the  fortuitous  concourse  of  atoms,  self- 
governed,  yet  bound  one  to  another  by  inexorable  necessity, 
and  forming  an  adamantine  chain,  that  is  nowhere  held  up  or 
sustained  save  by  a  dim  abstraction,  —  where 

"  Chaos  umpire  sits, 
And  by  decision  more  embroils  the  fray 
By  which  he  reigns  :  next  him,  high  arbiter, 
Chance  governs  all." 

causes,  we  must  attend  to  the  ancient  distinction  between  the  matter  and 
the  form  of  a  thing ;  this  is  admirably  illustrated,  as  follows,  by  Mr 
Thomson,  in  his  Outline  of  the  Laws  of  Thought,  page  22. 

"  A  statue  may  be  considered  as  consisting  of  two  parts,  the  marble 
out  of  which  it  is  hewn,  which  is  its  matter  or  stuff,  and  the  form  which 
the  artist  communicates.  The  latter  is  essential  to  the  statue,  but  not 
the  former,  since  the  work  might  be  the  same,  though  the  material  were 
different ;  but  if  the^orm  were  wanting,  we  could  not  even  call  the  work  a 
statue.  This  notion,  of  a  material  susceptible  of  a  certain  form,  the 
accession  of  which  shall  give  it  a  new  nature  and  name,  may  be  analogi- 
cally transferred  to  other  natures.  Space  may  be  regarded  as  matter,  and 
geometrical  figures  as  the  ^orm  impressed  in  it.  The  voice  is  the  matter  of 
speech,  and  articulation  the  form.  But  as  it  is  the  foiyn  which  proxi- 
mately and  obviously  makes  the  thing  what  it  is,  (although  there  can  be 
no  form  without  matter,)  the  word  form  came  to  be  interchanged  with 
essence  and  with  nature." 

We  may  explain  th€  four  sorts  of  causes  thus.  The  material  cause  of 
the  paper  on  whi-ch  I  am  now  writing,  is  the  pulp  of  rags  out  of  which 
it  was  made ;  its  formal  cause  is  its  peculiar  texture  and  other  proper- 
ties, which  entitle  it  to  the  name  of  paper ;  its  efficient  cause  is  the  paper- 
maker  ;  its  final  cause  is  to  be  written  upon. 


THE   ARGUMENT   FROM   DESIGN.  219 

Mind  resumes  its  dominion  over  the  vast  expanse,  and  drives 
these  spectres  back  to  their  native  reahn  of  ignorance  and 
eldest  Night.  Every  event,  from  the  blossoming  of  the  tiniest 
flower  up  to  the  swift  flight  of  the  stars  in  their  courses, 
becomes  as  intelligible  to  man  as  his  own  voluntary  move- 
ments. The  contest  between  mind  and  matter  ceases ;  spirit 
animates,  moves,  and  governs  all,  with  a  beneficent  and  dis- 
coverable purpose,  and  with  infinite  wisdom.  The  observation 
of  the  inherent  laws  of  material  atoms  now  becomes  the  study 
of  the  character,  intentions,  and  will  of  Him  who  created  the 
heavens  and  the  earth,  and  laid  the  corner-stone  thereof. 

Theology  is  the  compleTuent  and  extension  of  physical  science. 
—  The  great  truths  of  natural  theology,  then,  not  only  rest  upon 
the  same  proofs  which  support  our  conclusions  in  physical 
science,  but  they  enter  into  that  science  as  an  integral  portion 
of  it,  as  its  necessary  complement  and  extension  up  to  the 
farthest  Umits  which  are  imposed  upon  it  by  the  imperfection 
of  our  faculties.  They  are  among  the  facts  obtained  from  our 
observation  of  nature,  or  among  the  legitimate  inferences 
which  are  drawn  from  those  facts.  They  are  a  portion  of  the 
results  derived  from  the  strict  application  of  the  inductive 
method  to  the  study  of  nature,  and  they  are  therefore  properly 
recorded  with  the  other  conclusions  of  physical  science,  among 
its  most  valuable  contributions  to  the  sum  of  human  knowledge. 
Certain  marks  and  indentations  in  red  sandstone  are  held  to 
prove,  beyond  all  question,  the  existence  at  some  very  remote 
period  of  a  species  of  birds,  of  which  not  one  bone  or  other 
fragment  has  ever  been  discovered,  and  which  must  have  been 
wholly  unlike  any  winged  creature  that  now  inhabits  the  earth 
or  air.  In  like  manner,  certain  arrangements  and  adaptations 
in  the  body  of  a  Hving  animal  afford  abundant  indications  of 
purpose  and  contrivance,  and  so  prove  the  wisdom  and  good- 
ness of  the  great  Cause  that  brought  the  animal  into  being. 
There  is  no  difference  between  the  inferences  drawn  in  these 
two  cases,  except  that  the  latter  is  the  more  simple,  direct,  and 
unquestionable  ;  it  rests  upon  a  more  copious  induction,  and  it  is 
certainly  more  credible  that  a  fortuitous  conjunction  of  other 


220  THE    ARGUMENT    FROM   DESIGN. 

circumstances  should  have  caused  certain  marks  or  scratches 
on  a  rock,  th;in  that  an  unintelligent  and  undesigning  power 
should  have  lashioned  so  delicate  and  complex  an  instrument 
as  the  human  eye.  It  is  as  much  the  object  and  duty  of  science 
to  note  and  record  these  indications  of  intellect  and  design, 
as  to  distinguish  fossil  remains  from  the  mere  inorganic  rock  in 
which  they  are  imbedded.  The  mere  description  of  the  object 
or  phenomenon  is  incomplete  without  them.* 

Physical  science  stops  short  of  efficient  causation.  —  So,  also, 
if  the  study  of  nature,  so  far  as  it  relates  to  the  course  of  events, 
is  mainly  occupied  with  distinguishing  invariable  antecedents 
from  those  which  are  casual  and  temporary,  it  is  concerned, 
also,  to  point  out  such  antecedents  as  are  really  causal  and 
necessary,  and  so  invariable.'  The  operation  of  efficient  causes 
is  even  in  a  higher  degree  an  object  of  rational  inquiry  and 
effort,  than  the  succession  of  physical  causes,  provided  always 
that  the  distinction  between  them  be  kept  clearly  in  view,  and 
the  one  class  be  not  confounded  with  the  other.  Our  own 
consciousness  gives  us  a  knowledge  of  one  true  cause,  in  the 
mastery  of  the  human  will  over  the  body  with  which  it  is  con- 
nected. As  anthropology,  or  the  science  of  man,  would  be 
incomplete  without  a  discussion  of  this  capital  fact,  so  physical 


*  Dr.  "Wliewell  remarks,  that  even  the  "  physiologists  who  look  with 
suspicion  and  dislike  upon  the  introduction  of  Final  Causes  into  physi- 
ology, have  still  been  unable  to  exclude  from  their  speculations  causes 
of  this  kind.  Thus  Bichat,  after  noting  the  difference  between  the  or- 
ganic sensibility,  by  which  the  organs  are  made  to  perform  their  offices, 
and  the  animal  sensibility,  of  which  the  nervous  centre  is  the  seat,  says, 
'  No  doubt  it  will  be  asked  why'  —  that  is,  as  we  shall  see,  for  what  end — 
*  the  organs  of  internal  life  have  received  from  nature  an  inferior  degree 
of  sensibility  only,  and  why  they  do  not  transmit  to  the  brain  those  impres- 
sions which  they  receive,  while  all  the  acts  of  the  animal  life  imply  this 
transmission  ?  The  reason  is  simply  this,  that  all  the  phenomena  which 
establish  our  connections  with  surrounding  objects  ought  to  he,  and  are  in 
fact,  under  the  influence  of  the  will ;  while  all  those  which  serve  the  purpose 
of  assimilation  only,  escape,  and  ought  indeed  to  escape,  such  influence  ! 
The  reason  here  assigned  is  the  Final  Cause,  which,  as  Bichat  justly 
says,  we  cannot  help  asking  for."  —  Phil,  of  the  Ind.  Sci.  Vol  II.  p.  626. 


THE   ARGUMENT   FROM   DESIGN.  221 

science,  or  the  study  of  nature,  is  imperfect,  and  even  baseless, 
if  it  stops  short  of  the  modes  of  operation  of  that  single  Power 
which  sustains,  animates,  and  governs  all.  The  conclusions  of 
the  theological  inquirer,  therefore,  in  their  lower  aspect,  form 
a  part,  a  large  constituent  element, .of  the  great  body  of  scientific 
truth  which  man  derives  from  a  study  of  the  material  and  the 
intellectual  universe  ;  in  their  lower  aspect,  I  say,  for  this  fact 
would  hardly  merit  notice,  except  from  its  relation  to  my  pres- 
ent purpose,  which  is  to  show  the  nature  of  the  evidence  upon 
which  these  conclusions  rest. 

The  scientijic  value  of  theological  truths  inferior  to  their  moral 
worth.  —  Our  chief  interest  in  these  results  'xloes  not  depend 
merely  on  their  scientific  value,  as  additions  to  the  sum  of 
human  knowledge,  but  on  their  religious  bearing  and  their  ap- 
plicability to  the  government  of  our  hearts  and  lives.  The 
truths  thus  far  established  lead  us  only  to  the  opening  of  that 
great  subject  which  stretches  out  over  the  whole  field  of  our 
duties  and  hopes  as  intelligent,  moral,  and  accountable  beings. 
Though  the  discussion  in  this  work  has  been  strictly  confined  to 
the  validity  of  the  common  argument  for  the  being  of  a  God.  so 
far  as  this  is  aifected  by  the  metaphysical  theories  and  specula- 
tions now  most  in  vogue,  and  has  thus  only  prepared  the  way  for 
an  inquiry  into  the  whole  system  of  Natural  Religion,  it  has  still 
conducted  us  to  some  results  which  are  profitable  for  reflection 
and  practice.  "  Of  all  habits  of  thinking,  the  most  important  to 
be  cultivated  is  that  of  referring  all  the  phenomena  of  nature 
up  to  their  infinite  Creator,  and  of  regarding  all  events,  whether 
physical  or  moral,  as  caused  or  governed  by  an  ever-watchful 
and  active  Providence.  To  have  made  this  tne  ruling,  the 
habitual  sentiment  of  our  minds,  is  to  have  laid  the  foundation 
of  every  thing  which  is  religious.  The  world  thenceforth  be- 
comes a  temple,  and  life  itself  one  continued  act  of  adoration." 
The  philosophical  doctrine  of  the  immediate  agency  of  the  Deity, 
is  that  which  harmonizes  most  perfectly  with  the  rehgious  sen- 
timent in  man,  and  gives  most  satisfaction  and  support  to  the 
devotional  spirit.  It  strengthens  the  belief  in  revelation,  as  fhe 
course  of  all  physical  events  is  seen  to  be  dii-ected  with  a  moral 

19* 


222  THE   ARGUMENT   FROM   DESIGN. 

purpose ;  and  the  blind  domain  of  physical  laws  and  material 
necessity  being  broken,  a  direct  intei-position  of  God  in  the 
affairs  of  men  becomes  not  only  credible,  but  natural,  and  what 
we  should  most  readily  expect  from  infinite  goodness  and  wis- 
dom combined.  We  pass  on,  therefore,  from  the  study  of  his 
works  to  that  of  his  word,  not  by  an  abrupt  or  violent  transition, 
but  gradually,  and  with  a  distinct  recognition  of  the  unity  of  his 
character,  and  of  the  similarity  of  plan  by  which  he  governs  the 
physical  and  moral  universe,  and  proclaims  his  existence  and 
his  will  to  the  creatures  whom  he  has  made. 


SECOND     PART. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE    HUMAN    DISTINGUISHED    FROM    THE    BRUTE   MIND. 

Statement  of  the  subject.  —  We  have  finished  a  brief  view  of 
the  ordinary  argument  for  the  being  of  a  God.  But  the 
establishment  of  this  truth  alone,  though  it  is  the  central  doc- 
trine of  Natural  Religion,  and  all  the  others  depend  upon  it,  still 
leaves  us  at  the  threshold  of  the  subject.  We  have  still  to 
ascertain  the  character  or  attributes  under  which  the  Deity  has 
manifested  himself  to  mankind^  and  to  learn  if  these  are  such  as 
to  create  an  obligation  on  our  part  to  conform  to  his  will. 
Obedience  may  be  yielded  either  from  involuntary  awe,  or  blind 
submission  to  absolute  and  infinite  power,  or  from  veneration  for 
perfect  wisdom  and  holiness,  and  a  mingled  sentiment  of  duty, 
gratitude,  and  love.  The  prevalence  of  one  or  another  of  these 
motives  will  depend  on  the  views  which  we  may  form  of  the 
Divine  nature ;  and  the  peculiarity  of  the  dominant  motive  will 
modify  and  shape  the  whole  rehgious  character. 

It  is  but  a  part  of  the  same  inquiry  to  ask  what  the  jyivine 
will  is,  or  what  we  are  required  to  do,  or  to  refrain  from  doing, 
from  a  regard  to  the  relations  in  which  we  stand  to  God  and 
u)  our  fellow  man.  Apart  from  direct  revelation,  with  which 
at  present  we  have  nothing  to  do,  the  will  of  the  Deity  can  be 

(223) 


224  THE   NATURE    OF    INSTINCT. 

inferred  only  from  a  knowledge  of  his  character,  and  this  can 
be  learned  in  no  other  way  than  by  the  study  of  his  works. 
His  moral  attributes,  with  which  we  are  now  chiefly  concerned, 
are  made  known  to  us  almost  exclusively  through  the  con- 
stitution of  our  own  moral  nature ;  and  accordingly,  the  study 
of  this  nature,  or  of  the  ethical  constitution  of  man,  must  be  our 
chief  guide  in  the  present  inquiry.  :  As  the  former  Part  related 
mainly  to  things  physical,  or  to  what  is  taught  us  of  the  being 
and  agency  of  God  by  the  phenomena  of  the  outward  universe,  so, 
in  the  present  discussion,  the  nature  and  functions  of  conscience, 
and  the  analysis  of  our  sense  of  moral  obligation^  must  enable 
us  to  frame  our  conceptions  of  rehgious  duty.  This  will  be  the 
principal  aim  and  tendency  of  the  investigation ;  incidentally, 
as  before,  we  must  seek  for  illustrations  of  the  mil  and  character 
of  the  Deity  from  the  outward  and  visible  things  that  he  has 
made. 

Ba^sis  of  the  inquiry.  —  What  was  attempted  to  be  proved  in 
the  former  discussion  will  now  be  talvcn  for  granted  ;  and  this 
includes,  you  will  remember,  not  only  the  existence  of  God^  but 
his  incessant  and  omnipresent  action  in  the  universe.  Both  the 
creation  of  things  and  the  direction  of  events  are  his ;  the 
fashioning  of  our  bodies,  the  constitution  of  our  minds,  and 
the  endowment  of  our  moral  nature,  are  alike  the  effects  of  his 
wisdom  and  appointment ;  and  the  reasoning  from  effect  to 
cause,  which  was  proved  to  be  legitimate  in  the  case  already 
considered,  must  be  apphcable  in  all  others.  Even  the  attri- 
bute of  freewill,  in  respect  to  wliich  man  alone  is  created  in  the 
likeness  of  his  Maker,  is  his  gift ;  and  the  possession  of  it  is  an 
indication  of  his  will  that  it  should  be  exercised.  We  are  free 
to  choose  between  the  evil  and  the  good  ;  and  this  freedom  pre- 
supposes opportunities  for  choice  ;  it  requires  that  the  alterna- 
tive should  be  presented  to  us,  or  it  would  be  a  delusion  and  a 
mockery.  The  promptings  of  conscience  are  as  clear  an  indi-\ 
^cation"  oFthe  moral  judgments  of  God,  as  the  instincts  of  ani-/ 
mals,  the  processes  of  vegetable  life,  and  the  structure  of  the  2^ 
heavens  are  of  his  being  and  his  power.  In  both  'cases,  we 
reason  from  the  thing  that  is  created  and  finite  to  the  self-exist- 
ent and  infinite  Cause. 


THE    NATURE    OF    INSTINCT.  225 

The  study  of  human  nature  is  our  starting  point.  Among 
the  works  of  creation,  the  study  of  which  leads  us  up  to  a 
knowledge  of  the  being  and  attributes  of  God,  the  foremost 
place  is  occupied  by  man  himself.  We  are  ourselves  his  off- 
spring, creatures  whom  he  has  endowed  with  a  peculiar  physi- 
cal, intellectual,  and  moral  organization,  the  properties  and 
tendencies  of  which  reflect  the  character  and  purposes  of  our 
Maker.  The  marvellous  structure  of  our  bodies,  these  tene- 
ments of  clay  which  we  inhabit  for  a  season,  shows  his  wisdom, 
his  constant  agency,  his  designing  care  ;  so  also  the  constitution 
of  our  minds,  the  laws  by  which  our  sensations,  ideas,  and 
judgments  are  formed  and  made  to  succeed  each  other,  are  so 
many  tokens  of  the  Divine  will  and  character.  They  show 
what  part  God  intended  we  should  act  upon  the  theatre  of  the 
universe.  Still  further,  in  our  moral  nature,  or  the  emotions 
that  are  excited  in  us  by  the  sight  of  surrounding  objects  and 
events,  and  especially  by  the  contemplation  of  our  own  acts, 
and  of  those  of  our  fellow  beings,  we  find  our  only  means  of 
knowing  what  the  moral  attributes  of  God  are,  and  what,  if 
any,  is  his  scheme  of  moral  government.  Practically  speakmg, 
we  are  concerned  'to  know,  not  so  much  what  things  are  in 
themselves,  as  the  manner  in  which  we  are  affected  by  the  sight 
of  them,  and  by  living  in  the  midst  of  them.  The  fitness  of 
objects  to  give  pleasure  to  man  depends  equally  on  the  charac- 
teristic qualities  of  those  objects,  and  on  the  susceptibility  of  the 
human  mind  to  pleasure  of  one  kind  rather  than  another,  and 
indeed  on  its  capacity  of  being  pleased  at  all. 

The  true  end  and  aim  of  man^s  existence.  —  We  come,  there- 
fore, to  an  examination  of  the  nature  and  functions  of  con- 
science, as  the  first  point  of  our  inquiry.  My  object  Will  be  to 
show,  that  man  is  not  merely  an  intellectual  being,  placed  here  on 
earth  to  satisfy  his  curiosity,  and  to  provide  for  his  own  well- 
being.  This  would  be  a  conceivable  end  of  his  creation,  but  it 
is  notoriously  not  the  real  end.  If  he  had  the  intellectual  facul- 
ties of  an  archangel,  and  this  earth  were  a  paradise  for  his 
habitation,  affording  every  object  that  could  gratify  his  desires 
and  promote  his  happiness,  —  if  enjoyment  brought  no  satiety, 


2^6  THE    NATURE    OF    INSTINCT. 

and  labor  no  ftitigue,  if  his  birth  were  only  an  introduction  to 
active  pleasure,  and  death  were  nothing  but  painless  extinc- 
tion, —  then  we  could  easily  attribute  unlimited  benevolence  to 
his  Creator,  and  consider  that  man's  only  purpose  in  life  was  to 
pass  on  from  one  phase  of  happiness  to  another.  Why  is  it, 
that  we  do  not  regard  this  as  the  actual,  or  even  as  a  desirable, 
plan  of  human  existence  ?  It  is  only  an  obscure  reference  to 
such  a  scheme  which  lends  any  force,  or  indeed  any  meaning, 
to  the  oft-repeated  complaints  about  the  existence  of  evil  under 
the  government  of  a  God  of  infinite  benevolence.  Yet  when 
such  a  plan  of  life  is  presented  for  us  to  contemplate  at  once 
in  its  entireness,  we  almost  instinctively  reject  it,  as  not  admit- 
ting the  existence  of  those  qualities  which  now  constitute  the 
true  ornament  and  dignity  of  human  nature,  and  as  making  no 
provision  for  their  cultivation,  even  if  they  did  exist.  A  more 
authoritative  principle  than  self-love  declares  to  us,  that  the 
practice  of  virtue  is  higher  than  the  pursuit  of  enjoyment,  that 
hohness  is  more  desirable  than  happiness,  and  that  the  Divine 
government,  in  so  far  as  it  shows  infinite  justice  and  benevolence 
combined,  and  affords  scope  for  progress  and  effort,  as  well  as 
for  the  gratification  of  desires  ending  in  self,  is  in  truth  the 
noblest  conceivable  expression  of  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of 
God. 

The  contrast  between  man  and  the  brute.  —  To  prove  this 
point,  and  to  show  by  contrast  the  true  nature  of  the  moral 
faculty  in  man,  I  propose  to  go  some  way  back,  and  to  examine 
the  only  case  within  the  sphere  of  human  observation  where  in- 
tellectual are  not  combined  with  moral  qualities,  and  where,  con- 
sequently, enjoyment  for  the  time  must  be  regarded  as  the  sole  end 
of  existence.  I  refer,  of  course,  to  the  mental  constitution  of 
brutes,  or  of  all  orders  of  animated  being  which  are  inferior  to 
man.  The  subject  is  confessedly  an  obscure  one ;  but  I  doubt 
not  that  enough  of  it  may  be  made  out  with  certainty  to  answer 
all  the  purposes  of  this  discussion.  If  the  investigation  should 
lead  to  the  establishment  of  a  broad  distinction  between  man 
and  the  brute,  so  as  to  show  that  the  mental  endowments  of  the 
latter  differ  from  those  of  the  former,  not  in  degree  only,  but  in 


THE   NATURE    OF   INSTINCT.  227 

kind,  this  will  be  a  collateral  advantage,  which  will  help  us  to 
clear  up  some  other  difficulties  in  our  subject. 

How  far  we  can  know  the  nature  of  brutes.  —  Let  me  limit 
the  object  and  extent  of  the  inquiry  in  the  outset.  AVith  respect 
either  to  the  human  or  the  brute  mind,  we  can  only  ask  what  it 
does  ;  it  would  be  idle  to  inquire  what  it  is,  for  we  are  ignorant 
of  the  inward  nature,  the  essential  constitution,  of  both.  In 
the  one  case,  it  is  true,  we  have  the  aid  of  consciousness, 
while  in  the  other  we  are  restricted  to  external  observation. 
But  why  that  unit  of  being  which  we  call  man,  or  mind,  should 
have  one  set  of  powers  and  susceptibilities  rather  than  another, 
is  a  question  which  mere  physical  or  metaphysical  science  does 
not  pretend  to  answer,  otherwise  than  by  saying,  that  such  is 
the  will  of  his  Creator ;  the  moralist  or  the  theologian  may 
here  come  in,  and  show  the  reasonableness  of  that  will,  but  even 
he  cannot  tell  how  it  is  carried  into  effect.  In  the  case  of 
the  brute,  of  course,  we  can  only  look  at  its  outward  acts,  and 
thence  dimly  infer  its  peculiarities  of  mental  organization. 

Now  there  is  no  action  whatever,  considered  merely  as  a 
visible  fact,  as  an  exercise  of  nerves  and  muscles,  which  many 
brutes  cannot  perform  nearly  or  quite  as  well  as  men.  They 
walk,  leap,  run,  and  climb ;  they  eat,  drink,  and  continue  their 
species  ;  they  weep,  cry,  and  even  articulate.  From  their  out- 
ward acts  alone,  then,  it  seems  impossible  to  deduce  the  charac- 
teristic feature  of  their  mental  nature.  Luckily,  a  third  ques- 
tion remains  to  us,  the  answer  to  which  directly  involves  the 
subject  of  our  present  inquiry,  while  it  appears  to  be  within  the 
reach  of  human  investigation.  In  regard  either  to  instinct  or 
intelligence,*  though  we  cannot  tell  what  it  is,  we  may  ascertain 
what  it  is  not.  As  we  affirm  confidently  that  mind  is  not 
material,  so  we  may  find  sure  reason  to  believe  that  it  is  radi- 
cally different  from  instinct.  And  to  estabUsh  this  point  is 
my  first  object. 

Instinct  is  not  mechanism.  —  It  is  first  necessary  to  deter- 
mine the  meaning  of  the  word  instinct,  or  to  ascertain  what 
phenomena  are  properly  considered  as  instinctive.  Some 
writers  speak  of  "  physical  instincts,"  among  which  they  class 


228  THE    NATURE    OF    INSTINCT. 

the  beating  of  the  heart,  the  movements  of  respiration,  the 
peristaltic  motion  of  the  intestines,  and  the  like.  But  as  these 
motions  are  regular  and  involuntary,  they  are  more  properly 
re"-arded  as  automatic,  or  mechanical,*  and  are  classed  with  the 
phenomena  of  organic  life  rather  than  with  those  of  instinct, 
especially  as  operations  corresponding  to  them,  or  exactly 
similar,  are  carried  on  in  vegetables.  The  touch  of  an  insect 
alighting  on  the  common  flower  called  Venus's  Fly-trap  causes 
its  sides  to  spring  forcibly  together,  so  as  to  catch  and  hold  the 
intruder,  whose  struggles  only  increase  the  pressure  of  this  self- 
acting  trap.  Such  movements  resemble,  not  the  actions  of  a 
bird  in  building  its  nest,  but  the  motions  of  wheels  which  are 
dependent  on  the  uncoiling  of  a  spring  or  the  falling  of  a 
weight. 

Reflex  nervous  action  distinguished  from  instinct.  —  Recent 
discoveries  in  physiology  have  established  the  existence  of  what 
is  called  a  reflex  action  in  certain  nerves,  by  which,  without 
any  sensation  being  communicated  to  the  brain,  and  conse- 
quently without  any  effort  of  the  will,  an  impression  made  upon 
the  end  of  a  nerve  is  transmitted  to  the  spinal  cord,  and  is 
thence  sent  back  again,  as  it  were,  along  one  of  the  motor 
nerves  to  its  extremity,  producing  there  a  contraction  of  the 
muscles,  of  which  the  required  or  appropriate  movement  of 
the  limb  or  organ  is  the  consequence.  Isolate  this  pair  of  nerves 
entirely,  by  cutting  off  its  communication,  not  only  with  the 
head,  but  with   the   upper  and  lower  portions   of  the   spinal 

*  To  avoid  misconception,  I  may  here  mention,  once  for  all,  that  I  use 
the  common  phraseology  that  is  founded  on  the  mechanical  theory  of 
nature's  operations,  or  the  doctrine  of  secondary  causes,  but  without  de- 
mitting  the  truth  of  that  theory.  In  the  former  Part,  I  endeavored  to 
prove  that  all  action  or  change  in  the  purely  material  creation,  must  de 
attributed  to  the  immediate  agency  of  the  Creator.  Still,  for  the  con- 
venience of  speech,  to  avoid  circumlocution  and  incessant  reference  to  this 
doctrine,  I  continue  to  use  the  language  that  is  sanctioned  by  universal 
custom,  though  it  is  derived  from  what  seems  to  me  a  wholly  unphilo- 
sophical  and  mistaken  view  of  the  operations  of  nature  and  the  sphere  of 
Divine  action.  It  is  easy  to  bear  in  mind  the  constant  quahfication,  or 
protest,  under  which  this  phraseology  is  adopted. 


.       THE   NATURE    OF    INSTINCT.        *  229 

column,  reserving  only  a  segment  of  this  column  to  connect  the 
excitor  with  the  motor  nerve,  and  the  reflex  movement  may  still 
be  produced.  A  decapitated  frog  remains  at  rest  tiU  it  is 
touched ;  and  then  its  leg,  or  even  its  whole  body,  is  thrown 
into  sudden  but  momentary  action.  Cases  have  occurred  in 
which  the  spinal  cord  of  a  man  was  so  far  injured,  by  disease 
or  accident,  that  there  was  no  voluntary  control  of  the  lower 
limbs,  and  not  even  any  sensation  in  them ;  but  if  stimuli 
were  applied  to  the  feet,  by  tickling  or  pinching  them,  or  apply- 
ing a  hot  plate,  the  muscles  of  the  leg  instantly  contracted, 
and  with  some  violence  ;  and  this  without  the  patient  having 
any  sensation,  either  of  the  cause  of  the  movement,  or  of  the 
movement  itself;  in  fact,  without  his  knowing  it. 

Of  this  nature  is  the  action  of  swallowing,  which  is  excited 
by  the  contact  of  food  or  liquid  with  the  back  part  of  the 
mouth,  and  then  takes  place  in  spite  of  any  effort  on  our  part 
to  prevent  it.  "  Even  the  respiratory  movements,"  says  Dr. 
Carpenter,  "•  spontaneous  as  they  seem  to  be,  would  not  con- 
tinue unless  they  were  excited  by  the  presence  of  venous  blood 
in  the  vessels,  —  especially  in  those  of  the  lungs.  These  move- 
ments are  all  necessarily  linked  with  the  stimulus  that  excites 
them ;  —  that  is,  the  same  stimulus  will  always  produce  the  same 
movement,  when  the  condition  of  the  body  is  the  same.  Hence 
it  is  evident,  that  the  judgment  or  will  is  not  concerned  in  pro- 
ducing them  ;  but  they  may  be  rather  compared  to  the  move- 
ments of  an  automaton,  which  are  produced  by  touching  cer- 
tain springs."* 


*  As  the  reflex  action  of  tlie  nei'ves  had  not  been  discovered,  I  believe, 
when  Dugald  Stewart  published  (1826)  the  third  volume  of  his  Elements 
of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  he  has  some  excuse  for  maintain- 
ing that  the  operations,  not  only  of  suction  and  swallowing,  but  of  res- 
piration, must  be  ascribed  to  instinct.  But  his  doctrine  now  appears  even 
less  plausible  than  that  of  Dr.  Dan\-in,  who  gravely  supposes  that  the 
foetus  learns  to  swallow  by  its  experience  in  utero.  Stewart  mentions  the 
fact,  that  thirty  pairs  of  muscles  must  be  employed  in  every  draught,  and 
seems  to  believe  that  a  distinct  volition  is  required  for  the  movement  of 
each  pair ;  though  the  well-known  facts  respecting  the  catenation  of  J,ha 

20 


^80  *         THE   NATUKE    OF    INSTINCT. 

T*he  object  of  all  such  mechanical  and  involuntary  motions  is 
to  supply  the  imperative  wants  of  the  body,  and  to  preserve  it 
from  the  injuries  to  which  it  is  most  frequently  exposed.  The 
"watchfulness  of  the  animal  is  not  sufficient  for  its  own  preserva- 
tion ;  the  want  of  care,  quickness,  and  decision  in  the  control 
of  the  will  is  thus  compensated  by  a  mechanical  contrivance,  a 
spontaneous  movement,  which  repels  the  danger,  or  satisfies  the 
want,  before  we  are  conscious  of  its  existence,  A  beautiful  in- 
stance of  this  is  the  instantaneous  and  automatic  movement  of 
the  eyelids,  by  which  so  delicate  an  organ  as  the  eye  is  pre- 
served from  sudden  injury.  The  slightest  stimulus  causes  them 
to  close,  even  the  flash  of  powder  having  this  effect  before  the 
flame  can  reach  the  eyeball.  It  would  be  an  abuse  of  language 
to  apply  the  same  name  to  a  contrivance  like  this,  and  to  the 
marvellous  instinct  that  guides  the  migrating  bird,  at  the  proper 
season,  in  its  long  flight  to  its  w^inter  home. 

Instinct  distinguished  from  the  appetites.  —  Besides  these 
mechanical  operations,  or  organic  functions  of  life,  w^hich  are 
common  to  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdom^  though  they  are 
more  numerous  and  more  complex  in  the  former,  I  exclude  the 
simple  appetites  and  passions  from  the  class  of  instincts  properly 
so  called.  These  appetites  have  been  called  instinctive,  because 
they  seek  their  own  gratification  without  the  aid  of  reason,  and 
often  in  spite  of  it.  They  are  common  to  man  and  the  brute; 
but  they  differ,  at  least  in  one  important  respect,  from  those 
instincts  of  the  lower  animals  which  are  usually  contrasted  with 
human  reason.  The  objects  towards  which  they  are  directed 
are  prized  for  their  own  sake ;  they  are  sought  as  ends,  while 


muscular  actions  might  have  convinced  him  of  the  absurdity  of  such  a 
theory.  His  naive  astonishment,  that  an  infant,  as  soon  as  it  comes  into 
the  world,  should  know  how  to  "  perform  with  the  most  perfect  success  the 
function  of  respiration,  —  a  function  which  requires  the  alternate  contrac- 
tion and  relaxation  of  certain  muscles  in  a  regular  order  and  succession,'^' 
—  is  certainly  an  amusing  instance  of  this  weakness.  He  might  just  as 
well  have  been  surprised  that  it  should  know  how  to  keep  up  the  circulation 
of  the  blood  in  its  tender  limbs ;  for  the  will  of  the  infank  has  certainly  aa 
much  to  do  in  this  case  as  in  that  of  respiration. 


THE   NATURE    OF    INSTINCT.  231 

Instinct  teaches  brutes  to  do  many  things  which  are  needed  only 
as  means  for  the  attainment  of  some  ulterior  purpose.  Thus, 
instinct  enables  a  spider  to  entrap  his  prey,  while  appetite  only 
leads  him  to  devour  it  while  in  his  possession.  Nay,  the  two 
impulses  often  act  in  opposition  to  each  other,  as  when  the  bird 
(Restrains  its  own  hunger  for  the  sake  of  feeding  its  young. 
Appetite  is  blind  and  affords  a  motive,  but  no  guidance,  for 
effort;  instinct,  on  the  other  hand,  often  supplies  an  object  for 
action,  though  it  is  more  frequently  indebted  for  this  to  appetite, 
and  always  points  out  the  course  for  its  attainment.  It  is  true, 
that  appetite  sometimes  appears  to  direct  the  choice ;  yet  so  far 
only  as  the  absence  or  presence  of  it  leads  the  animal  to  reject 
unsuitable  food,  and  to  devour  that  which  is  adapted  to  its 
physical  constitution.  That  a  dog  will  not  eat  hay,  nor  a  horse 
swallow  raw  meat,  is  no  more  a  proof  of  instinct  than  the  cor- 
responding fact  in  man,  that  sweet  things  are  pleasant  to  the 
taste,  while  bitter  are  disagreeable,  is  an  indication  of  reason. 

It  is  evident  that  the  appetites  have  been  called  instinctive, 
only  because  they  are  not  acquired  hy  experience  or  instruction  ; 
they  are  innate.  But  this  is  far  from  being  the  only  character- 
istic of  what  are  usually  termed  the  instincts  of  the  lower  ani- 
mals, which  often  lead  to  complex  and  prolonged  tasks,  involving 
a  constant  sacrifice  of  their  natural  desires  and  inclinations. 
Instinct  is  marvellous  and  inscrutable  in  its  operations,  as  much 
so  as  reason  itself.  But  that  the  appetites  have  their  appro- 
priate objects,  and  reject  all  others,  is  no  special  cause  for 
wonder,  any  more  than  the  fact,  that  glass  transmits  light,  while 
it  is  impervious  to  air.     Such  is  its  original  constitution. 

Dejinition  of  instinct.  —  How  may  we  define  instinct,  then, 
as  distinguished  from  appetite  on  the  one  hand,  and  from  reason  j 
on  the  other,  as  all  three  are  motives  or  guides  to  action  ?  It 
is  an  impulse  conceived  without  instruction,  and  prior  to  all  ex- 
periencCy  to  perform  certain  acts  which  are  not  needed  for  the 
immediate  gratification  of  the  agent,  which  in  fact  are  often  op- 
posed to  it,  and  are  useful  only  as  means  for  the  attainment  of 
some  ulterior  object ;  and  this  object  is  usually  one  of  preemi- 
nent utility  or  necessity ^  either  for  the  preservation  of  the  ani- 


232  THE    NATURE    OF    INSTINCT. 

mal's  own  life,  or  for  the  continuance  of  its  species.  The  for- 
mer quality  separates  it  from  intelligence,  properly  so  called, 
which  proceeds  only  by  experience  or  instruction ;  and  the  lat- 
ter is  its  peculiar  trait  as  distinguished  from  appetite,  which,  in 
strictness,  uses  no  means  at  all,  but  looks  only  to  ends.* 

In  the  remainder  of  what  I  have  to  offer,  it  will  be  my  object 
to  show,  ^first,  that  instinct  is  distinguishable  from  reason  by 
many  other  peculiarities,  which  are  so  obvious  and  striking, 
that  we  must  admit  the  difference  between  the  two  attributes  to 
be  radical  or  essential,  —  a  difference  not  in  degree,  but  in  kind  ; 
secondly,  that  all  annuals  inferior  to  man  are  guided  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree,  if  not  entirely,  by  instinct,  while\man  is  never 
subject  to  it,  but  is  governed  exclusively  by  reason,  —  the 
effects  of  mechanical  contrivances,  and  of  mere  appetites,  or 
blind  desires  and  inclinations]  which  are  confessedly  common  to 
man  and  the  brute,  having  been  set  aside  for  reasons  ah-eady 
mentioned ;  and  thirdly,  that  [the  lower  animals,  because  their 
hio-hest  attribute  is  instinct,  have  no  moral  character  whatever, 
and  consequently  do  not  merit  praise  or  blame,J —  so  that  their 
actions,  and  the  scheme  or  plan  of  their  existence,  show  us  what 

*  "All  those  acts  of  animals  are  instinctive  which,  though  performed 
voluntarily,  do  not  depend  primarily  on  the  mere  will  of  the  animal ;  they 
have  an  object  according  with  the  wants  of  the  organism,  but  this  object  is 
unknown  to  the  animal ;  the  hidden  cause  incites  the  brute  to  the  neces- 
sary acts,  by  presenting  to  it  the  *  theme  '  of  the  voluntary  movements  to 
be  executed  in  detail  by  the  influence  of  the  will.  We  are  ourselves  con- 
scious only  of  feelings  and  impulses  to  determinate  acts.  The  number  of 
instinctive  acts  is  great  in  animals  in  proportion  to  their  incapability  of 
accomplishing  by  their  own  mental  powers  the  design  for  which  their  spe- 
cies was  created."  —  Muller's  Physiology,  p.  946. 

Hence,  as  Dr.  Holland  remarks,  the  two  great  faculties  of  reason  and 
instinct  exist  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  each  other.  "  In  man,  instincts,  prop- 
erly so  called,  form  the  minimum  in  relation  to  reason.  They  multiply 
continually,  and  become  more  distinct  in  character,  as  we  descend  in  the 
scale ;  their  completeness  in  reference  to  the  life  of  the  individual,  increas- 
ing in  the  same  ratio  as  the  intelligence  becomes  less."  He  adds,  "as  a 
further  proof  of  the  inverse  perfection  of  intellect  and  instinct,  that  the 
class  of  insects,  in  whom  these  instinctive  functions  are  most  strikingly 
manifested,  appears  to  rank  very  low  in  the  scale  of  intelligence." 


THE    NATURE    OF    INSTINCT.  233 

man  would  be,  if  he  was  deprived  of  the  ethical  part  of  his 
nature,  and  thus,  in  the  higher  meaning  of  the  phrase,  not  sub- 
ject to  the  moral  government  of  God.  The  general  conclusion 
will  he,  that  the  animal  as  well  as  the  vegetable  creation,  like 
inorganic  things,  and  the  course  of  merely  physical  events,  are 
not  ends  in  the  Divine  government,  but  7neans,  the  leading  pur- 
pose of  all  being  the  moral  education  and  government  of  man. 

Instinct  acts  without  instruction  or  experience.  —  And  first,  it 
will  not  be  necessary  to  use  many  words  to  prove  that  instinct, 
unlike  reason,  acts  without  instruction  or  experience.  Chick- 
ens hatched  by  steam,  which  have  never  seen  any  older  birds 
of  the  same  species,  perform  all  the  duties  of  incubation  and 
feeding  their  young  as  perfectly  as  if  they  had  been  the  con- 
stant objects  of  Dame  Partlet's  care  in  their  own  callow  in- 
fancy. Insects  born  only  after  the  death  of  their  parents  still 
run  the  little  cycle  of  their  appointed  tasks,  and  make  provision 
for  their  own  future  progeny,  which  they  are  never  to  see,  with 
as  much  labor  and  foresight  as  were  exercised  in  preparing  and 
storing  their  own  cradles.  The  moth,  with  great  care,  collects 
food  of  a  kind  which  it  never  uses  for  itself,  as  a  provision  for 
its  young  when  in  a  transition  state.  Certain  insects,  govern- 
ing for  the  moment  their  own  appetites,  which  would  lead  them 
to  devour  their  food  as  soon  as  found,  store  up  in  subterranean 
cells  a  provision  for  the  coming  winter,  though  as  yet,  in  their 
short  life,  they  have  experienced  only  the  warmth  and  abun- 
dance of  summer  and  autumn.  In  all  these  cases,  there  is  no 
opportunity  for  experience,  and  no  sour^  of  instruction ;  and 
the  end  attained  is  one  that  is  essential  for  the  preservation  of 
the  species. 

"  Who  bid  the  stork,  Columbus-like,  explore 
Heavens  not  his  own,  and  worlds  not  known  before  1 
Who  calls  the  councils,  states  the  certain  dayl 
Who  forms  the  phalanx,  and  who  points  the  way  ?  " 

Instinct  not  susceptible  of  improvement.  —  The  next  peculi- 
arity of  instinct,  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  one  already 
noticed,  is,  that  it  is  not  susceptible  of  improvement  or  educa- 
tion.    It  is  complete  from  the  beginning ;  it  makes  no  progress 

20* 


284  THE    NATURE    OF    INSTINCT. 

either  in  the  individual  or  the  race.  The  bee,  as  soon  after  its 
disclosure  from  the  pupa  as  its  body  is  dried  and  its  wings  ex- 
panded, takes  its  part  in  the  labors  of  the  little  commonwealth 
with  as  much  apparent  activity  and  efficiency  as  its  elders.  It 
collects  honey  and  builds  a  cell  as  adroitly  in  the  first,  as  in  the 
last,  hour  of  its  existence.  And  so  it  is  with  the  species  ;  the 
internal  economy  of  a  hive  was  just  as  marvellous  in  the  days 
of  Aristotle  and  Virgil,  as  in  those  of  Huber,  The  reported 
cases  of  greater  docility  shown  by  the  offspring  of  trained  ani- 
mals, than  by  the  young  of  the  same  species  when  in  their  wild 
state,  can  all  be  explained  from  the  fact,  that  most  quadrupeds 
and  birds  are  more  or  less  prone  to  imitate  the  habits  of  those 
around  them,  so  that  they  become  more  teachable  by  observ- 
ing, from  the  moment  of  birth,  the  movements  of  the  elder  ani- 
mus. 

-*;—  ]  Instinct  within  its  sphere  transcends  reason^ — It  is  impor- 
tant to  observe  that  the  power  of  instinct,  inlSany  cases,  quite 
ti'anscends  that  of  reason ;  if  it  differs  from  human  intelligence, 
not  in  kind,  but  in  degree  only,  it  is  undoubtedly  the  superior. 
Man  may  go  to  school  to  the  dog,  the  swallow,  and  the  bee,  but 
he  can  never  equal  his  teacher.  Let  him  attempt,  for  instance, 
without  the  aid  of  any  tools  or  machinery,  and  with  the  utmost 

'  economy  of  space  and  material,  to  construct  a  symmetrical  hex- 
agonal cell,  closed  at  one  end  by  a  trihedral  pyramid,  each  side 
of  which  is  a  rhombus,  with  its  obtuse  angles  measuring  pre- 
cisely 109°  28',  and  its  acute  angles  70°  32'.  Without  instru- 
ments or  a  pattern,  1^  probably  could  not  cut  out  such  a  rhom- 
bus with  perfect  accuracy  after  a  thousand  trials.  But  the  bee 
does  this  before  it  is  a  day  old.  And  in  this  statement  of  the 
task,  the  greatest  difficulty  of  all  is  left  out  of  it ;  we  have 
solved  the  most  abstruse  problem  in  it,  in  order  to  make  the 
performance  more  easy.  In  order  to  make  the  cell  with  as  lit- 
tle wax  and  space  as  possible,  it  is  necessary  that  the  angles  of 
the  rhombus  should  have  precisely  these  dimensions,  and  no 
other.  It  was  only  after  the  invention  of  the  integral  calculus 
that  man  was  able  to  determine  the  angles  required  for  this  pur- 
pose, or,  in  other  words,  to  discover  how  far  the  wisdom  of  the 


THE   NATURE    OF   INSTINCT.  235 

bee  transcends  his  o\^'n.     In  Virgil's  time,  the  bee  was  wiser 
than  the  greatest  human  mathematician  of  its  day. 

Those  who  are  familiar  with  the  habits  of  animals  can  pro- 
duce a  multitude  of  other  instances  to  show  the  vast  superiority 
of  instinct,  in  its  proper  and  limited  sphere,  over  the  best  efforts 
of  human  reason ;  especially  when  we  make  the  proper  qualifi- 
cation, that  tiie  animal  usually  works  without  instruments  of 
any  kind,  except  those  furnished  in  its  own  body,  which  affords 
nothing  to  be  <iompared,  in  point  of  convenience,  with  the  human 
hand.  But  I  give  one  other  case,  whieh  needs  not  this  qualifi- 
cation ;  it  is  found  in  the  explanation  of  the  proverbial  phrase, 
"  a  bee  line."  Remove  a  man  blindfold  several  miles  from 
his  home,  by  a  route  with  which  he  is  entirely  unacquainted, 
and  require  him  to  return  to  his  o^vn  door  by  a  mathematically 
straight  line.  The  bee  will  do  so  ;  but  a  man's  path  under 
such  circumstances  would  probably  be  rather  crooked.  And 
the  difference  between  them  cannot  be  explained  on  the  sup- 
position of  the  insect's  greater  sharpness  of  vision,  or  by  the 
greater  elevation  at  which  it  flies ;  let  the  hive  be  in  the  midst 
of  a  forest,  so  that  the  intervening  trees  hide  it  when  one  is  a 
rod  off  in  any  direction,  and  the  bee  still  flies  straight  to  its 
home. 

^'  Bnt  honest  Instinct  comes,  a  volunteer,'' 
Svre  never  Jo  o'ershoot,  but  just  to  hit  j 
While  still  too  wide,  or  short,  is  human  wit." 

Instinct  works  in  a  marrow  sphere,  —  The  consideration  of 
this  manifest  preeminence  of  instinct,  in  its  limited  sphere,  over 
reason,  was  necessary,  in  order  to  put  in  a  proper  light  the  next 
peculiarity  of  it  which  I  have  to  notice,  and  which  certainly 
divides  it  by  a  very  broad  line  from  any  thing  in  the  mental 
constitution  of  man.  f  Instinct  is  limited  to  a  very  few  ends,  \ 
mostly  to  those  which  are  essential  to  the  preservation  of  the  ■ 
animal  itself,  or  of  its  species.  It  works  in  a  prescribed  and 
narrow  path,  to  accomplish  these  purposes  and  no  others ;  its 
methods  are  invariable,  or  nearly  so,  its  power  of  adapting  it- 
self to  circumstances  being  confined  within  a  very  narrow  range. 
Take  the  animal  out  of  its  sphere,  and  its  mental  endowments 


236  THE    NATURE    OF   INSTINCT. 

cease  to  be  even  comparable  ivitb  those  of  man.  It  falls  infi- 
nitely far  below  him.  The  bee,  which  in  certain  tasks  seems 
wiser  than  a  Euclid  or  an  Arkwright,  is,  when  compelled  to 
labor  for  any  other  pnii)ose  than  that  for  which  nature  has  spe- 
cifically adapted  it,  more  stupid  than  an  idiot.  If  one  acciden- 
tally flics  into  a  room  through  the  lower  half  of  an  open  ^s^dow, 
and,  seeking  to  return,  happens  to  strike  against  the  glass  above, 
it  will  continue  buzzing  about  and  knocking  its  head  against  the 
same  pane  oftentimes  for  an  hour,  though  it  would  find  free 
egress  a  few  inches  below. 

Instinct  does  tiot  adapt  itself  to  circumstances.  —  Again,  the 
instinct  often  continues  to  act  when  the  occasion  for  its  exercise 
has  ceased,  so  that  its  opei-ations  are  immeaning  and  purpose- 
less. Thus,  a  squirrel,  imprisoned  in  a  wire  cage,  if  it  has  re- 
ceived more  nuts  than  its  appetite  craves  for  the  moment,  will 
scratch  diligently  at  the  bottom  of  its  cage,  and  then  place  a 
nut  upon  the  spot ;  —  in  this  way  showing  the  continuance  of 
the  instinct  which  was  needed  only  in  its  wild  state,  and  its 
utter  ignorance  of  the  effect  of  a  chancre  of  circumstances.  A 
still  more  curious  instance  is  that  of  the  beaver,  whose  instincts 
seem  more  closely  than  those  of  any  other  animal  to  simulate 
human  reason.  "  The  building  instinct,"  says  Dr.  Carpenter, 
"  shows  itself  even  when  the  beaver  is  in  captivity,  and  in  cir- 
cumstances in  which  it  can  be  of  no  use.  A  half-domesticated 
individual,  in  the  possessicai  of  Mr.  Broderip,  began  to  build  as 
soon  as  it  was  let  out  of  its  cage,  and  materials  were  placed  in 
its  way.  Even  when  it  was  only  half-grown,  it  would  drag 
along  a  large  sweeping-brush,  or  warming-pan,  graspmg  the 
handle  with  its  teeth,  so  that  the  load  came  over  its  shoulder  ; 
and  would  endeavor  to  lay  this  with  other  materials,  in  the 
mode  employed  by  the  beaver  when  in  a  state  of  nature.  The 
long  and  large  materials  were  always  taken  first ;  and  two  of 
the  longest  were  generally  laid  crosswise,  with  one  of  the  ends 
of  each  touching  the  wall,  and  the  other  ends  projecting  out  into 
the  room.  The  area  formed  by  the  crass  brushes  and  the  wall 
he  would  fill  up  with  boots,  books,  sticks,  dried  turf,  or  any  thing 
portable.     He  would  often,  after  laying  on  one  of  his  building 


THE   NATURE    OF   INSTINCT.  237 

materials,  sit  up  over  against  it,  appearing  to  consider  his  work, 
or,  as  the  country  people  say,  to  'judge  it';  this  pause  was 
sometimes  followed  by  changing  the  material  judged,  and  some- 
times it  was  left  in  its  place.  After  he  had  piled  up  his  mate- 
rials in  one  part  of  the  room,  for  he  generally  chose  the  same 
place,  he  proceeded  to  wall  up  the  space  between  the  feet  of  a 
chest  of  drawers  which  stood  at  a  little  distance  from  it,  high 
enough  on  its  legs  to  make  the  bottom  a  roof  for  him  ;  using  for 
this  j^urpose  dried  turf  and  sticks,  which  he  laid  very  even,  and 
filling  up  the  interstices  with  bits  of  coal,  hay,  cloth,  or  any 
thing  he  could  pick  up.  This  last  place  he  seemed  to  appro- 
priate for  his  dwelling ;  the  former  work  seemed  to  be  intended 
for  a  dam." 

"  Other  animals  are,  in  like  manner,  occasionally  conducted 
by  their  instincts  to  the  performance  of  actions  equally  irrational, 
and  quite  incapable  of  answering  the  purpose  which  the  partic- 
ular instinct  is  destined  to  serve."  In  all  that  goes  beyond  the 
sensations  of  the  present  moment,  in  every  thing  that  relates  to 
the  future,  and  therefore  requires  the  use  of  means,  which  in  a 
human  being  would  imply  sagacity  and  foresight,  the  several 
classes  of  brutes  do  one  thing  in  only  one  way.  Following  that 
narrow  path,  they  appear  like  prodigies  of  wisdom;  remove 
them  ever  so  little  from  it,  and  they  again  become  —  brutes. 
In  this  respect,  the  parallel  between  the  human  and  the  brute 
mind  fails  entirely ;  instinct  is  no  longer  to  be  compared  with 
reason,  but  with  a  machine.  The  analogy  here  is  perfect ;  a 
jenny  or  a  mule  can  spin  yarn  much  better  than  man  could  with 
the  aid  only  of  his  fingers ;  but  it  cannot  card,  weave,  or  dress ; 
it  can  do  nothing  but  spin.  A  machine  performs  a  single  task, 
usually  with  wonderful  speed,  neatness,  and  precision ;  but  its 
utility  is  limited  to  this  single  purpose.  So  a  bee  constructs  its 
combs  with  admirable  art ;  but  it  cannot  build  a  hive,  or  house 
for  these  combs.  It  cannot  fashion  a  paper  house,  like  the 
wasp,  or  dig  subterranean  chambers  for  its  home,  like  the  ant. 
But  the  pliability  of  the  human  mind,  its  power  of  adapting 
itself  to  circumstances,  is  one  of  its  most  marvellous  attributes. 
Sagacity  shown  in  one  case  is  a  good  test  of  general  ability  for 


238  THE   NATURE    OP    INSTINCT. 

all  occasions.  Increased  facility  in  performing  particular  tasks 
is  acquired  by  habit ;  but  the  mind  is  master  also  of  its  habits, 
foiTuing  or  destroying  them  at  pleasure. 

Instinct  capable  of  a  few  adjustments.  —  I  do  not  say  that  in- 
stinct is  the  action  of  a  machine,  but  only  that  it  resembles  this 
action  more  nearly  than  it  does  the  curious,  flexible,  and  far- 
reaching  operations  of  reason.  In  one  respect,  it  is  like  a  cun- 
ningly devised  engine  which  admits  of  several  adjustments,  so 
that,  though  it  still  performs  but  one  kind  of  work,  it  allows  of  a 
few  variations  in  its  pattern  and  fabric.  These  variations  are  lim- 
ited in  extent,  and  never  amount  to  a  change  of  the  main  ob- 
jects in  view ;  but  if  accident,  or  man's  device,  interferes  with 
the  animal's  ordinary  mode  of  attaining  that  object,  it  will  often 
slightly  modify  the  operation,  so  as  to  get  rid  of  the  difficulty.* 


*  Sometimes  it  is  essential  for  the  purpose  which  the  particular  instinct 
is  designed  to  answer,  that  there  should  be  a  certain  degree  of  flexibility 
in  that  instinct.  Thus,  a  certain  kind  of  spider  always  spins  a  circular 
web,  and  must  thercfoi-e  have  the  power  of  aflBxing  threads  of  different 
lengths  to  different  portions  of  the  circumference,  wherewith  to  attach  the 
web  to  the  variously  shaped  openings  in  a  wall,  or  among  the  branches  of 
a  tree  or  shrub,  within  which  the  web  is  to  be  supported.  The  marvellous 
power  of  instinct  is  often  strikingly  shown  in  the  different  expedients 
which  this  spider  uses,  to  attach  the  web  to  the  supports  in  its  neighbor- 
hood with  the  greatest  economy  of  labor  and  material.  I  once  saw  such  a 
web,  not  more  than  six  inches  in  diameter,  which  the  spider  had  placed  in 
one  of  the  upper  corners  of  an  opening,  about  three  feet  long  and  two  feet 
high,  in  the  wall  of  a  shed.  Half  of  the  circumference,  it  was  obvious,  was 
easily  supported  by  prolonging  a  few  of  the  radii  a  short  distance,  till  they 
met  the  two  nearest  sides  of  the  opening  in  the  angle  of  which  the  web 
hung.  But  how  was  the  opposite  semi-circumference  held  up,  without  ex- 
tending its  radii  two  or  three  feet,  to  meet  the  two  further  sides  of  the 
opening  ?  Single  threads  of  this  great  length  would  be  very  apt  to  be 
broken,  and  could  hardly  be  hauled  taut  enough  to  give  the  requisite  stiff- 
ness to  the  fabric.  On  looking  nearer  to  the  web,  however,  I  found  that 
the  instinct  of  the  spider  had  hit  upon  an  expedient  which  had  not  at  first 
occurred  to  me.  It  had  spun  a  stout  thread  diagonally  across  the  angle 
within  which  the  web  was  hung,  in  the  direction  of  a  tangent  to  the  outer 
semi-circumference,  and  distant  only  an  inch  or  two  from  the  nearest  point 
of  that  circumference.  Two  or  tliree  guys,  also,  were  attached  to  different 
points  of  this  diagonal  thread,  whence  being  carried  to  the  adjacent  sides 


THE   NATURE    OF    INSTINCT.  239 

Thongh  walking  in  a  narrow  path,  it  can  still  turn  aside  a  little 
to  the  right  or  the  left,  so  as  to  avoid  an  obstruction  in  the  way. 
Honey-bees  can  alter  their  work  just  enough  to  avoid  what 
may  be  termed  the  ordinary  casuakies  of  the  hive.  When  ex- 
traordinary disorders  in  the  combs  take  place,  Huber  tells  us 
that  they  pull  the  grubs  out  of  the  cells  to  perish,  demolish  the 
structure,  and  begin  anew,* 

Instinct  compared  with  liabiL  —  Instincts  have  sometimes 
been  called  innate  habits,  and  the  parallel  thus  indicated  ap- 
pears a  very  just  and  striking  one.  Cuvier  long  ago  remarked, 
that  animals  guided  by  instinct  appear,  like  a  man  in  a  dream, 


of  the  opening,  and  hauled  taut,  they  served  to  stiffen  that  diagonal. 
Thus  the  circular  web  was  inscribed  in  a  triangle  of  the  most  convenient 
size,  two  sides  of  which  were  formed  by  the  angle  of  the  opening  in  the 
wall,  while  this  ingeniously  stiffened  diagonal  thread  formed  the  third  side. 
Any  observer,  by  examining  closely  some  of  these  circular  webs,  which  he 
may  find  in  any  garden  or  neglected  outhouse,  will  find  various  and 
equally  ingenious  expedients  adopted  to  fasten  it  firmly,  and  with  the 
greatest  economy  of  material,  to  the  nearest  supports. 

"We  have  here,  also,  a  good  illustration  both  of  an  instinct's  pliability 
within  a  certain  range,  and  of  its  fixedness  for  every  thing  which  lies  be- 
yond that  range.  The  expedients  for  supporting  a  circular  web  must  be 
almost  infinitely  varied,  according  to  the  exigencies  of  the  locality  where 
it  is  placed.  But  why  does  not  this  spider  ever  spin  a  triangular  web,  or 
one  of  any  other  form,  as  other  spiders  do,  and  thus  avoid  all  trouble  in 
suspending  it  in  any  place  1 

*■  "  Bees  cemented  their  combs,  when  becoming  heavy,  to  the  top  of  the 
hive  with  mitys,  in  the  time  of  Aristotle  and  Pliny,  as  they  do  now ;  and 
there  is  every  reason  to  believe  that  then,  as  now,  they  occasionally  varied 
their  procedures,  by  securing  them  with  wax  or  with  propolis  only,  either 
added  to  the  upper  range  of  cells,  or  disposed  in  braces  and  ties  to  the  ad- 
joining combs.  But  if,  in  thus  proceeding,  they  were  guided  by  reason, 
why  not,  under  certain  circumstances,  adopt  other  modes  of  strengthening 
their  combs  ?  Why  not,  when  wax  and  propolis  are  scarce,  employ  mud, 
which  they  might  see  the  martin  avail  herself  of  so  successfully  ?  Or  why 
should  it  not  come  into  the  head  of  some  hoary  denizen  of  the  hive,  that  a 
little  of  the  mortar  with  which  his  careful  master  plasters  the  crevices  be- 
tween his  habitation  and  its  stand,  might  answer  the  end  'of  mitys  ?  'Si 
seulement  ils  elevoient  unefois  des  cabanes  quarries,'  says  Bonnet,  when  speak- 
ing as  to  what  faculty  the  works  of  the  beaver  are  to  be  referred  ;  *  maia 
ce  sent  ^ternellement  des  cabanes  rondes  ou  ouales.' " — Kirby  and  Spence. 


240  THE   NATURE    OF   INSTINCT. 

to  be  haunted  by  one  idea,  or,  like  a  somnambulist,  to  perform 
a  very  difficult  task  without  being  conscious  of  it.  In  the 
human  mind,  frequent  repetition  appears  to  unite  the  parts  of 
a  long  and  complex  mental  process  into  one  whole,  so  that  the 
several  required  volitions  follow  each  other  with  as  much  order 
and  facility  as  if  they  were  links  of  the  same  chain.  There  is 
no  delay  in  order  to  dwell  on  any  part  of  the  operation,  and 
consider  what  is  to  be  done  next.  The  needful  step  is  sug- 
gested precisely  at  the  right  moment,  and  instantly  performed, 
so  that  no  effort  of  the  will  seems  to  have  been  necessary,  and 
we  say  that  the  whole  was  done  unconsciously.  Thus,  an  ab-« 
sent-minded  man  may  undertake  a  long  walk  by  a  familiar  path, 
his  mind  being  occupied  all  the  while  with  some  knotty  subject 
of  thought,  which  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  cause  of  his  excur- 
sion ;  and  he  arrives  safely  at  the  desired  point,  without  being 
aware  of  the  bodily  exertion  he  has  made,  or  of  having  attended 
to  any  object  on  the  road,  or  to  a  single  incident  of  the  journey. 
There  may  have  been  several  diverging  routes,  and  he  always 
selected  the  right  path,  without  being  aware  that  he  exercised 
a  choice.  At  each  step,  a  distinct  volition  was  required  to  lift 
his  foot  from  the  ground ;  but  he  was  not  conscious  of  any  ex- 
ertion either  of  the  will  or  the  body.  It  seems  as  if  there  was 
a  latent  idea  in  his  mind,  never  rising  into  the  sphere  of  con- 
sciousness, which  still  governed  every  motion  of  the  will,  and 
brought  out  the  desired  result  at  last,  though  the  man  himself 
was  as  ignorant  of  the  process  as  if  he  had  been  a  mere  ma- 
chine.* 


*  "  The  effect  of  habit,"  says  Dr.  Holland,  "  in  giving  an  automatic 
character,  almost  like  an  instinct,  to  certain  groups  of  muscular  actions  — 
as  in  speaking,  walking,  and  the  other  numerous  and  complex  movements 
of  the  limbs  —  is  absolutely  necessary  to  human  existence,  and  admirably 
suited  to  this  necessity."  In  comparing  Habits  vv^ith  Instincts,  he  after- 
wards observes,  an  essential  point  is  their  respective  relation  to  the  Will. 
Instinct  at  first  is  independent  of  the  Will,  though  afterwards  often  modi- 
fied by  it ;  on  the  other  hand,  the  actions  which  were  at  first  entirely  con- 
trolled by  the  Will,  as  they  become  habitual,  gradually  lose  this  depenr 
dence,  and  at  last  seem  wholly  involuntary.    "  It  is  well  worthy  of  notej, 


THE   NATURE    OF   INSTINCT.  241 

Instinct  is  unconscious  of  the  ends  it  subserves.  —  Now  the 
bee,  in  constructing  a  comb,  works  like  a  somnambulist,  or  like 
this  person  laboring  under  absence  of  mind.  It  reflects  not 
upon  the  object  of  its  labors  ;  for  having  had  the  experience  but 
of  one  season,  or  perhajDS  of  one  day,  it  knows  not  what  that 
object  is.  Foresight  it  has  not,  unless  it  be  the  foresight  of  a 
god  rather  than  a  man ;  for  human  foresight  is  nothing  but  the 
reflection  of  past  scenes  upon  the  mirror  of  the  future. 

"  The  lamb  thy  riot  dooms  to  bleed  to-day, 
Had  he  thy  reason,  would  he  skip  and  play  1 
Pleased  to  the  last,  he  crops  the  flowery  food, 
And  licks  the  hand  just  raised  to  shed  his  blood." 

It  is  not  conscious  of  design  or  contrivance ;  for  this  implies 
preconceived  ideas  of  ends  not  yet  realized,  and  such  ideas,  we 
have  seen,  it  cannot  possess.  The  bee  toils  on  just  as  uncon- 
sciously as  the  man  moves  his  limbs  in  that  dreamy  walk ;  there 
is  a  purpose,  a  useful  end,  to  he  obtained  by  the  exertion ;  but 
neither  of  them  is  aware  of  it  at  the  moment.  In  the  man,  in- 
deed, the  purpose  was  preconceived,  and  will  come  back  to  his 
mind  at  the  end  of  the  walk.  The  bee  knows  nothing  of  a  pur- 
pose, but  toils  on  as  an  humble  instrument  in  the  hands  of  an- 
other. Its  vocation  is  that  only  of  the  common  laborer,  to  bring 
bricks  and  mortar  for  the  construction  of  those  wonderful  cells 
whose  real  Maker  and  Architect  is  Divine,  and  who  appears,  in 
this  instance  at  least,  if  not  in  every  other,  constantly  superin- 
tendino;  and  controlling  his  own  works. 

"  Esse  apibus  partem  divinse  mentis,  et  haustus 
JEtherios,  dixere  ;  deum  namque  ire  per  oranes 
Terrasque,  tractusque  maris,  coelumque  profundum  : 
Hinc  pecudes,  armenta,  viros,  genus  omne  ferarum, 
Quemque  sibi  tenues  nascentem  arcessere  vitas." 

how  closely  the  results  continually  approach  to  each  other,  though  thus 
remote,  and  even  opposite,  in  their  source."  "  The  closest  approxima- 
tion of  Habits  and  Instincts  is  undoubtedly  shown  in  the  tendency  of  the 
former  to  become  hereditary  —  a  fact  variously  proved  both  as  to  bodily 
and  mental  ha])its ;  and  equally  curious  and  important  in  reference  to  the 
whole  economy  of  animal  life."  —  Mental  Physiology,  pp.  223,  224. 

21 


242  THE   NATURE    OF   INSTINCT. 

And  here  we  see  an  obvious  reason  why  the  instincts  of  ani- 
mals are  not  susceptible  of  education  or  improvement.  The 
operation  that  is  continued  from  the  mere  force  of  habit,  will 
never  be  improved.  If  the  pedestrian  suddenly  quickens  or 
slackens  his  pace,  it  is  a  sure  sign  that  he  has  begun  to  think 
about  the  object  of  his  journey.  So  a  practised  musician  may 
play  a  familiar  tune,  without  appearing  to  bestow  any  attention 
upon  it,  —  merely  from  habit.  But  he  will  make  no  progress 
in  his  art  by  such  exercise.  In  order  to  improve,  he  must 
pause  and  dwell  upon  the  process,  note  the  defects  in  his  execu- 
tion, and  by  distinct  and  conscious  effort  try  to  remove  them. 
The  brutes,  also,  acting  under  their  instincts,  as  men  do  when 
guided  only  by  habit,  ignorant  of  the  objects  of  their  toil,  and 
therefore  never  reflecting  upon  the  best  means  of  obtaining 
those  objects,  perform  their  last  labor  precisely  like  their  first.  ' 
Their  physical  powers  improve  as  they  grow  to  maturity ;  but 
their  7nodes  of  operation  are  never  altered. 

Instinctive  distinguished  from  imitative  acts.  —  I  say  nothing 
of  the  feats  which  animals  may  be  trained  by  man  to  accom- 
plish, because  these  may  all  be  traced  to  the  blind  and  uncon- 
scious faculty  of  imitation  or  mimicry,  and  to  the  continued 
association  of  reward  or  punishment  with  certain  actions.  An 
animal  blindly  repeats  some  movement  which  a  man  performs 
only  from  a  perception  of  its  true  meaning  and  purpose  ;  we 
must  not  therefore  attribute  such  a  perception  to  the  brute. 
Parrots  may  be  taught  to  articulate  ;  but  they  do  not  thereby 
learn  to  talk.  A  monkey,  in  a  painter's  studio,  will  seize  his 
brush,  and  cover  the  walls  of  the  room  with  unmeaning  scrawls  ; 
it  imitates  the  physical  act  of  the  painter,  but  without  any 
glimpse  of  its  intention  and  real  character.  The  teachableness 
of  the  different  classes  of  animals  seems  to  depend  on  the  com- 
parative strength  of  this  imitative  propensity ;  and  as  many  of 
the  exhibitions  of  this  propensity,  even  in  man,  are  blind  and 
purposeless,  we  may  reasonably  conclude  that  they  are  always 
so  in  the  brute. 

The  acquired  habits  of  domesticated  animals  mostly  override 
and  conceal  their  natural  inclinations,  so  that  they  do  not  seem 


THE    NATURE    OF    INSTINCT.  243 

to  possess  as  many  or  as  striking  instincts,  as  some  wild  brutes 
which  are  certainly  inferior  to  them  in  the  scale  of  being. 
Many  of  these  instincts,  also,  are  of  a  social  character,  and 
therefore  can  be  manifested  only  when  the  individual  is  in  the 
wild  herd  with  its  fellows.  But,  in  one  degree  or  another^  in- 
stinct is  displayed  hy  all  the  animals  inferior  to  man.  We  find 
the  plainest  marks  of  it  precisely  where  we  should  expect, 
among  the  means  provided  for  the  continuation  of  the  species. 
What  directs  the  young  colt,  or  the  calf,  at  once,  to  the  only 
proper  source  of  its  nourishment  ?  or  why  does  it  not  attempt  to 
crop  the  herbage  for  food,  like  its  dam  ?  The  stratagems  used 
by  wild  beasts  to  ensnare  their  prey  must  all  be  attributed  to 
instinct,  as  each  species  uses  but  one  or  two  forms  of  such  arti- 
fice, and  shov/s  little  or  no  power  of  adapting  them  to  circum- 
stances. How  many  other  instincts  are  naturally  conjoined 
with  these,  it  is  impossible  to  tell,  as  they  are  freely  manifested 
only  in  the  wild  state,  and  are  concealed  by  artificial  habits 
when  they  are  subject  to  the  care  and  observation  of  man.* 

Instinct  teaches  the  brutes  how  to  see.  —  In  one  respect,  indeed, 
all  animals  are  admirably  fitted  for  the  exigencies  of  their 
situation  immediately  after  birth,  while  the  human  infant  is  left 
to  the  slow  inductions  of  experience  under  the  guidance  of  its 
elders.  Man's  first  step  in  education  is  to  acquire  the  use  of 
his  own  eyes,  or  to  learn  how  to  see.  It  is  a  fact  now  firmly 
established,  both  by  a  priori  reasoning  and  observation,  that  the 
eye  directly  sees  nothing  but  colors,  and  cannot  perceive  imme- 
diately either  distance,  figure,  dimension,  or  situation.     Colors 


*  "  Wherever  there  is  organization,  even  under  the  simplest  fonn,  there 
we  are  sure  to  find  instinctive  action,  more  or  less  in  amount,  destined  to 
give  the  appropriate  effect  to  it.  This  is  true  throughout  every  part  of  the 
animal  series,  from  Man  and  the  Quadnimana  down  to  the  lowest  forms 
of  infusorial  life.  When  we  consider  how  vast  this  scale  is  —  crowded 
with  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  recognized  species,  exclusively  of  those 
which  fossil  geology  has  disclosed  to  us  —  we  may  well  be  amazed  by  this 
profuse  variety  of  instinctive  action,  as  multiplied  in  kind  as  are  the  organic 
forms  with  which  it  is  associated,  and  all  derived  from  one  common 
Power."  —  Holland's  Mental  Physiology,  p.  206. 


244  THE    NATURE    OF    INSTINCT. 

are  the  only  visible  things,  just  as  sounds  alone  are  audible ; 
experience  teacl>es  us,  from  slight  variations  or  peculiarities  of 
these,  to  infer  the  distance,  magnitude,  and  other  tangible  quali- 
ties of  the  objects  which  possess  or  emit  them.  This  fact  has 
been  demonstrated  by  experiments  on  persons  born  blind  and 
subsequently  restored  to  sight,  and  may  be  confirmed  by  watch- 
inor  the  movements  of  an  infant  soon  after  birth.  Place  some 
bright  or  gayly  colored  toy  before  its  eyes,  and  its  looks  and 
movements  instantly  betray  its  desire  to  grasp  it ;  and  if  the 
object  be  actually  placed  in  its  hands,  it  will  hold  it  firmly,  and 
seem  unwilling  to  relinquish  it ;  but  hold  it  a  little  w  ay  oflT,  and 
the  hands  grope  for  it  seemingly  at  random,  or  so  as  to  show 
the  infant's  entire  ignorance  of  its  true  distance  and  position. 
If  its  bungling  attempts  be  attributed  in  part  to  ignorance  of 
the  right  mode  of  using  its  arms  and  limbs,  this  only  places  in 
a  stronger  light  its  inferiority  for  the  time  to  the  young  brute. 
In  a  beautiful  experiment  made  by  Galen,  a  kid,  just  snatched 
from  the  matrix  of  its  dead  mother,  used  its  limbs  at  once  w^ith 
perfect  facility  and  success,  and  with  the  characteristic  movements 
of  its  species.  Like  the  newly  born  colt  or  calf,  also,  it  walked 
with  freedom,  inspected  objects  near  at  hand,  and  avoided  those 
which  were  in  its  way,  —  not,  as  in  the  case  of  man,  with  an 
acquired  judgment,  but  from  an  instinctive  knowledge  of  their 
true  position. 

"C  Man  has  no  instincts  properly  so  callecL]—  Now,  if  in  so  im- 
portant a  respect  as  the  use  of  his  eyes,  on  which  man  is 
dependent  for  safety  at  almost  every  moment  of  his  existence, 
while  by  their  aid  alone  his  other  faculties  attain  their  full 
development,  —  if  on  this  cardinal  point,  man  is  left  entirely  to 
the  slow  deductions  of  experience,  we  may  well  believe  that,  in 
no  other  respect,  with  him,  is  instinct  made  to  supersede  the  use 
of  reason.  We  are  led  to  conclude,  then,  not  only  that  all  the 
lower  animals  are  copiously  endowed  with  instincts,  but  that 
man  is  absolutely  devoid  of  them,  and  is  left  to  be  guided  by 
reason  alone.  The  utter  helplessness  of  the  human  infant, 
when  compared  with  the  young  of  other  animals,  appears  in 
nothing  so  strongly  as  in  its  inability  to  see,  even  when  the  eyes 


THE    NATURE    OP   INSTINCT.  245 

are  opened,  and  tlieir  physical  structure  is  perfect.  In  fact, 
there  is  no  instance  commonly  adduced  to  prove  that  man  is 
ever  governed  by  instinct,  except  the  first  mode  in  which  he 
receives  food ;  and  even  this  is  admitted  to  be,  at  most,  but  a 
transient  instinct,  given  to  provide  for  his  safety  in  the  first 
helpless  hours  of  liis  existence.  It  is  very  doubtful,  however, 
whether  even  this  temporary  impulse  can  properly  be  called 
instinctive.  Recurring  to  the  definition  already  given,  is  it  cer- 
tain that  this  is  an  instance  of  action  not  pleasurable  in  itself 
alone,  but  useful  only  as  a  means  for  some  ulterior  object? 
That  mere  muscular  exertion  is  pleasant  in  itself,  is  evident 
enough  to  one  who  observes  the  uneasiness  of  infants,  and  the 
strange  gymnastic  experiments  of  children  of  a  little  larger 
growth.  If  a  small  object  be  placed  in  the  hand  of  an  infant, 
its  little  fingers  readily  close  around  it,  apparently  from  the 
mere  pleasure  of  calling  the  muscles  into  activity.  The  sphinc- 
ter muscle  of  the  mouth  may  do  the  same,  when  any  object 
comes  within  its  grasp ;  and  then  the  child  needs  but  a  single 
inspiration,  which  automatically  recurs  at  every  instant,  in  order 
to  have  its  first  pleasant  experience  of  the  gratification  of  appe- 
tite. When  this  pleasure  has  been  a  few  times  repeated,  the 
habit,  aided  by  the  uneasiness  of  hunger,  becomes  so  strong, 
though  at  the  same  time  so  blind,  because  the  intellect  is  as  yet 
not  at  all  developed,  that  the  infant  eagerly  sucks  every  object 
presented  to  its  mouth.  It  is  this  eagerness,  manifested  at  so 
early  a  period,  which  has  led  most  observers  to  consider  the 
action  as  instinctive.  But  Dr.  Carpenter,  an  eminent  physi- 
ologist, expressly  refers  this  act  of  suction  to  the  reflex  func- 
tion of  the  nerves,  thus  considering  it  to  be  as  mechanical  as 
the  shutting  of  the  eyelid,  or  the  beating  of  the  heart ;  for  in- 
fants that  have  been  born  destitute  of  brain,  and  have  lived  for 
some  hours,  and  other  animals'  young  whose  brain  had  been 
removed,  have  readily  sucked  a  moistened  finger,  when  intro- 
duced between  their  lips.  Dr.  Henry  Holland,  also,  who  is 
high  authority  on  such  a  subject,  observes  that  "  the  first  suck- 
ing of  the  infant  is  probably  a  simple  reflex  action,  following  aa 
impression  on  the  neryes  of  sense." 

21* 


246  THE    NATURE    OF    INSTINCT. 

It  has  now  been  conclusively  shown,  if  I  mistake  not,  that  a 
class  of  phenomena  are  manifested  by  the  lower  animals,  which 
may  be  as  sharply  distinguished  from  the  effects  of  human  rea- 
son, on  the  one  hand,  as  from  those  of  appetite  and  natural 
desire,  on  the  other  ;  and  these  phenomena  are  attributed  to  a 
power  which  we  call  instinct.  Give  it  any  other  name,  and  it 
will  answer  the  purpose  equally  well.  All  the  lower  animals 
manifest  it ;  man  never  does  ;  —  these  are  the  only  propositions 
with  which  w^e  are  now  concerned.  All  the  actions  of  man, 
which  have  been  loosely  considered  or  described  as  instinctive, 
may  be  referred  either  to  the  powers  of  organic  life,  —  that  is, 
to  mechanical  forces,  —  or  to  the  teachings  of  experience,  or  to 
the  class  of  appetites.  Human  nature  shows  no  trace  whatever 
of  that  marvellous  power  which  governs  the  bee  in  the  con- 
struction of  its  cell,  and  guides  the  migrating  bird  to  its  winter 
home.  But  man  is  the  only  being  who  is  not  under  its  influence ; 
every  other  animal,  from  the  noblest  quadruped  to  the  humblest 
insect,  gives  frequent  indications  of  its  presence  and  control. 

Instinct  probably  never  united  with  reason.  —  So  numerous 
and  striking,  indeed,  are  the  manifestations  of  it  by  every 
species,  that  there  appears  good  reason  to  doubt  whether  it  is 
ever  mingled,  even  in  them,  with  what  is  properly  called  intel- 
lect; whether  all  the  reputed  cases  of  sagacity  and  intelligence 
in  the  higher  animals  may  not  be  referred,  after  all,  into  a  mere 
blind  propensity  to  imitate  actions,  the  meaning  and  purpose  of 
which  they  cannot  understand,  or  into  an  instinct  moi^e  flexible 
and  varied,  indeed,  than  that  of  the  lower  tribes,  but  which  is 
still  seen  to  be  radically  different  from  reason.  Without  enter- 
ing into  this  difficult  discussion,  I  will  merely  allude  to  the 
striking  improbability  of  the  lower  animals  being  endowed  with 
reason,  which  they  need  to  exercise  only  on  infrequent  and  ex- 
traordinary emerge7icies,  while  all  the  ordinary  occasions  of  their 
beings- their  wants,  dangers,  and  the  continuation  of  their 
species  —  are  provided  for  by  the  lower  attributes  with  which 
they  are  specially  endowed.  These  certainly  suffice  for  the 
most  wonderful  works  that  are  performed  by  them  ;  the  whole 
insect  tribe  unquestionably  knows  no  other  guide  than  instinct; 


THE    NATUPtE    OP    INSTINCT.  247 

and  if  this  power  be  enough  to  account  for  the  actions  of  the 
ant  and  the  bee,  we  hardly  need  seek  any  other  key  to  the  sup- 
posed sagacity  of  the  dog  and  the  elephant,  as  they  also  possess 
it,  and  it  governs  nearly  all  their  conduct. 

But  the  negative  on  the  other  side  is  more  easily  supported, 
and  by  direct  evidence.  However  it  may  be  with  the  brute, 
reason  is  not  united  with  instinct  (properly  so  called)  in  man. 
The  human  intellect  is  pure  and  unmixed.  It  may  be  obscured 
by  appetite,  or  stormed  by  passion ;  habit  may  render  its  opera- 
tions so  swift  and  easy,  that  we  cannot  note  and  remember  their 
succession.  But  when  free  from  these  disturbing  forces,  it  acts 
always  with  a  full  perception  of  the  end  in  view,  and  by  a 
deliberate  choice  of  means  aims  at  its  accomplishment.  We 
have  the  immediate  testimony  of  consciousness,  that  we  never 
select  means  until  experience  has  informed  us  of  their  efficacy, 
and  never  use  them  but  with  a  full  knowledge  of  their  relation 
to  the  end. 

Summary  of  the  characteristics  of  instinct.  —  Each  of  the 
qualities  of  instinct  on  which  I  have  remarked,  is  a  pecuharity 
of  it  in  respect  to  reason,  and  serves  more  or  less  to  distinguish 
it  from  that  faculty ;  while  the  aggregate  of  these  peculiari- 
ties shows  conclusively  that  the  difference  between  the  two  is 
fundamental.  This  will  appear  more  clearly  from  a  summary 
of  the  several  points  that  have  been  considered.  It  has  been 
shown,  then,  that  instinct  exists  before  experience,  and  is  wholly 
independent  of  instruction ;  that  it  is  not  susceptible  of  educa- 
tion or  improvement  of  any  kind,  either  in  the  individual  or  the 
race ;  that  it  works  successfully  towards  important  and  remote 
ends  by  the  use  of  complex  and  laborious  means,  yet  without 
any  apparent  consciousness  of  the  difference  between  means 
and  ends ;  that  it  acts,  in  truth,  by  impulse,  and  not  through  re- 
flection, —  at  least,  as  much  so  as  the  man  who  has  gained  by 
habit  the  power  of  performing  a  long  operation  without  reflect- 
ing on  any  part  of  it ;  that  it  is  limited  to  a  few  objects,  and  out 
of  the  narrow  sphere  of  work  required  for  these  objects  it  is 
altogether  useless ;  and  that,  consequently,  it  appears  in  the 
same  animal,  and  at  the  same  time,  both  as  the  most  brutish 


248  THE   NATURE    OF    INSTINCT. 

Stupidity  and  as  the  highest  wisdom,  for  some  of  its  creations 
shame  the  greatest  ingenuity  of  man.*  As  we  are  confessedly 
ignorant  of  the  internal  constitution  of  both  faculties,  reason 
and  instinct,  and  are  compelled  to  judge  of  them  exclusively  by 
their  outward  manifestations,  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  two 
powers  which  should  appear  more  unlike. 

Beings  guided  by  instinct  are  not  moral  beings.  —  It  is  vain  to 
form  conjectures  respecting  the  inward  essence,  or  ultimate 
cause,  of  a  faculty  which  appears  to  human  reason  so  anoma- 
lous. Yet  one  or  two  points,  perhaps,  may  be  satisfactorily 
made  out  respecting  the  mental  constitution  of  brutes,  which 
will  afford  us  a  glimpse  of  the  final  end  of  their  being. 
Whether  instinct  be  the  mere  action  of  a  curious  machine,  or 
the  effect  of  the  constant  agency  and  promptings  of  ^he  Deity, 
or  the  working  of  some  still  more  secret  principle  which  is 
nowhere  manifested  but  vo,  animal  life,  it  is  not  a  free  and  con- 
scious power  of  the  animal  itself  in  which  it  appears  and 
works.  It  is,  if  I  may  so  speak,  a  foreign  agency,  which  enters 
not  into  the  individuality  of  the  brute.  The  animal  appears 
subject  to  it,  controlled  and  guided  by  it,  but  not  to  possess  and 
apply  it  by  its  own  will  for  its  own  chosen  purposes.  We  can- 
not conceive  of  wisdom  apart  from  reflection  and  consciousness  ; 
there  is  an  absurdity  in  the  very  terms  of  such  a  statement. 
The  skill  and  ingenuity,  then,  which  appear  in  the  works  of  the 
lower  animals  are  not  referable  to  the  animals  themselves,  but 
must  proceed  from  some  higher  power,  working  above  the  sphere 
of  their  consciousness.  This  assistance  is  meted  out  to  them 
for  specific  and  limited  ends,  and  has  no  effect  on  the  rest  of 
their  conduct,  which  is  governed  by  their  own  individuality.  In 
its  highest  functions,  the  brute  appears  only  as  the  blind  and 
passive  instrument  of  a  will  which  is  not  its  own. 

*  "  The  absolute  hereditary  nature  of  instincts,  —  their  instant  or  speedy 
perfection,  prior  to  all  experience  or  memory,  —  their  provision  for  the 
future  without  prescience  of  it,  —  the  preciseness  of  their  objects,  extent, 
and  limitation,  —  and  the  distinctness  and  permanence  of  their  character 
for  each  species,  —  these  are  the  more  general  facts  on  which  our  definition 
must  be  founded."  — Holland's  Mental  Phjsiologr/,  p.  201. 


THE    NATURE    OF    INSTINCT.  249 

"And  Keason  raise  o'er  Instinct  as  you  can, 
In  this  'tis  God  directs,  in  that  'tis  man." 

The  power  is  granted  to  it  for  a  time,  but  is  not  susceptible  of 
improvement  by  practice  while  in  its  keeping,  is  invariably  ap- 
plied in  the  same  way,  and  with  perfect  success,  and  is  with- 
drawn as  soon  as  the  purposes  for  which  it  was  given  are 
answered.  No  moral  character  is  attributable  to  a  faculty 
which  is  unconsciously  exerted,  and  no  moral  aim  can  exist 
where  progress  or  change  is  impossible.  When  deprived  of 
this  extraneous  power,  or  viewed  apart  from  it,  the  brute  ap- 
pears in  its  true  light,  as  the  creature  of  a  day,  born  not  for 
purposes  connected  with  its  own  being,  but  as  an  humble  instru- 
ment, or  a  fragmentary  part,  in  the  great  circle  of  animated 
nature,  which,  as  a  whole,  is  subservient  to  higher  ends.* 


*  I  hardly  need  observe  hoAV  much  the  phenomena  considered  in  this 
chapter  tend  to  confirm  the  doctrine  of  immediate  divine  agency.  This 
was  the  opinion  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton,  who,  in  the  famous  31st  Query,  or 
General  Scholium  to  his  "  Optics,"  says,  "  the  instinct  of  brutes  and  in- 
sects can  be  nothing  else  than  the  wisdom  and  skill  of  a  powerful,  ever- 
living  Agent,  who,  being  in  all  places,  is  more  able  by  his  will  to  move 
the  bodies  within  his  boundless  uniform  sensorium,  and  thereby  to  form 
and  reform  the  parts  of  the  universe,  than  we  are  by  our  will  to  move  the 
parts  of  our  bodies."  Even  Miiller,  the  physiologist,  says,  "  The  cause 
of  instinct  appears  to  be  the  same  power  as  that  on  which  the  first  pro- 
duction of  the  animal,  and  the  perfection  of  its  organization,  depend. 
The  instinctive  acts  of  animals  show  us  that  this  power,  which  thus  forms 
the  whole  organization  with  reference  to  a  determinate  purpose  and  in 
accordance  with  an  unchanging  law,  has  moreover  an  action  beyond  this  ; 
they  prove  that  it  influences  the  voluntary  movements.  That  which  is 
eflFected  by  the  instinctive  movements  is  equally  in  accordance  with  a 
determinate  purpose,  and  as  necessary  for  the  existence  of  the  species  as 
the  organization  itself;  but  while,  in  the  case  of  the  organization  of  the 
being,  the  object  attained  formed  part  of  the  organism,  in  the  case  of  the 
instinctive  movements,  it  is  something  in  the  exterior  world ;  the  mental 
power  of  the  animal  is  incited  by  the  organic  creative  force  to  the  concep- 
tion and  attempt  to  attain  some  special  object." 

Again,  "  it  is  further  to  be  remarked  that  the  realization  of  the  ideas, 
images,  and  impulses,  thus  developed  in  the  sensorium,  is  admirably 
facilitated  by  the  organization  of  the  aninials.    Both  the  internal  impulse 


250  THE   ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAN 


CHAPTER     II. 

THE   PRINCIPLES    OF   ACTIVITY   IN   HUMAN   NATURE. 

Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  The  object  of  the  last  chapter 
was,  by  a  brief  inquiry  into  the  mental  constitution  of  the  ani- 
mals inferior  to  man,  to  bring  out  into  a  stronger  light  those 
peculiarities  of  human  nature  which  show  what  is  the  purpose 
of  our  being  in  this  life,  and  what  are  the  leading  features  in 
the  scheme  of  Divine  Providence  for  the  government  of  man. 
I  do  not  forget  that  our  first  object  is  to  show  what  are  the 
moral  attributes  of  God,  and  to  ascertain  if  there  is  sufficient 
evidence  to  justify  us  in  imputing  to  him  those  qualities  of 
infinite  wisdom  and  benevolence,  of  perfect  justice  and  holiness, 
which  the  religious  sentiment  within  us  instinctively  requires  in 
the  person  towards  whom  it  is  directed.  But  these  quaUties  can 
be  manifested  to  our  eyes  only  in  his  works  and  ways ;  and  it 
is  by  studying  these,  that  is,  by  ascertaining  what  human  nature 
is,  how  it  is  endowed,  and  what  is  the  part  which  it  has  to  per- 
form in  this  stage  of  existence,  that  we  can  arrive  at  any  certain 
and  precise  knowledge  of  the  Divine  nature.  Now  we  are  so 
much  accustomed  to  take  for  granted  a  knowledge  of  the  human 
constitution,  both  intellectual  and  moral,  it  is  so  much  easier  to 


and  the  external  organization  being  dependent  on  the  same  original  cause, 
the  form  of  the  animal  appears  in  complete  unison  with  its  impulses  to 
action ;  it  wills  to  do  nothing  which  its  organs  do  not  enable  it  to  do  ;  and 
its  organs  are  not  such  as  to  prompt  to  any  act  to  which  it  is  not  impelled 
by  an  instinct."  Thus,  the  indistinct  sight  of  the  mole,  arising  from  the 
smallness  of  its  eyes,  which  are  also  shielded  by  thick  hairs,  and  the  shape 
of  its  claws  and  feet,  are  admirably  adapted  to  the  subterranean  life  which 
its  instincts  impel  it  to  lead.  The  instinct  of  the  ^loth  urges  it  to  climb 
trees  and  live  in  them,  a  mode  of  existence  for  which  it  is  perfectly  well 
fitted  by  the  shape  of  its  extremities,  which  allow  it  to  walk  on  the  ground 
only  with  great  difiiculty  and  awkwardness. 


THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAN.  251 

use  our  faculties  in  the  study  of  external  objects  than  of  the 
mind  itself,  that,  without  some  object  of  comparison  or  contrast, 
it  is  difficult  to  understand,  or,  at  any  rate,  to  have  a  clear  and 
lively  sense  of,  those  endowments  by  which  we  are  distinguished 
among  God's  creatures,  and  of  the  purposes  for  which  these 
distinguishing  attributes  were  granted  to  us.  We  see  the  work 
that  is  accomplished  by  brutes,  and  how  they  are  fitted  for  its 
performance.  We  are  conscious  of  the  possession  of  higher 
faculties  than  theirs,  and  we  seek  to  know  how  our  task  and  our 
destiny  differ  from  theirs ;  or  whether,  in  truth,  we  have  any 
task  set  to  us,  or  any  great  end  to  obtain.  The  character  and 
intentions  of  the  Deity  must  appear  most  clearly  from  a  com- 
parative examination  of  the  two  higher  orders  of  animated  being 
which  he  has  made. 

One  point  I  may  now  assume,  as  sufficiently  established  in 
the  First  Part  of  this  discussion.  It  is  inconsistent,  —  I  do  not 
say  with  injinite  wisdom,  for  perhaps  we  are  not  justified  at  this 
stage  of  the  argument  in  considering  any  of  the  attributes  of  God, 
except  his  duration,  as  infinite,  —  but  it  is  inconsistent  with  the 
transcendent  wisdom  which  is  everywhere  visible  in  the  works 
of  creation,  to  suppose  that  any  thing  was  created  in  vain,  or 
that  a  difference  is  established  between  two  orders  of  being 
without  any  reason  for  that  difference.  To  act  with  reference 
to  improper  or  ill-chosen  ends,  is  the  part  of  imperfect  intelli- 
gence; but  to  act  without  any  end  at  all,  is  mere  brutishness,  oi' 
a  sign  of  the  absolute  want  of  understanding.  We  cannot  be- 
lieve that  the  creation  of  man,  or  the  constitution  of  his  being 
in  any  respect,  is  as  meaningless  as  seems  the  direction  of  the 
clouds  that  float  athwart  a  summer's  sky. 

Discipline  and  self-development  are  the  ends  of  human  life. — 
A  comparison  of  the  human  with  the  brute  mind  shows,  first, 
that  self-development  is  one  of  the  great.ends  of  our  being  here, 
and  that  the  fulfilment  of  this  purpose  is  left  in  a  great  degree 
to  our  own  freewill.  It  is  not  enough  that  the  intellect  should 
be  competent  for  its  task ;  the  work  of  preparation,  or  the  act 
of  rendering  it  competent,  is  itself  the  first  object  for  which  we 
are  urged  to  any  kind  of  exertion.     DiscipUne  and  progress,  not 


252  THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAX. 

mere  possession  or  enjoyment,  is  the  great  purpose  of  human 
life.  Tlie  workings  of  instinct,  if  we  look  only  at  the  impor- 
tiince  and  difficulty  of  tlie  results  obtained,  often  surpass  the 
most  strenuous  efforts  of  the  conscious  mind.  Man,  as  I  have 
said,  may  go  to  school  to  the  ant  and  the  bee ;  in  fact,  there  is 
hardly  one  of  the  inferior  animals  whose  habits  he  may  not 
study  with  a  well  founded  hope  of  obtaining  direction  for  his 
own  labors.  Why,  then,  is  he  not  led,  unconsciously  and  pas- 
sively, as  the  brutes  are,  by  the  wisest  and  most  effective  means, 
selected  without  any  effort  of  his  own  judgment  and  ingenuity, 
to  the  immediate  accomplishment  of  far  more  brilliant  results 
than  he  has  ever  yet  worked  out  by  the  natural  exercise  of  the 
faculties  with  which  he  is  at  present  endowed  ?  Why,  for  in- 
stance, after  all  his  bitter  experience  in  the  matters  of  govern- 
ment and  social  institutions,  and  after  the  wisdom  of  thirty 
centuries  has  been  exhausted  in  pondering  upon  the  several 
problems  of  social  philosophy,  is  he  still  unable  to  form  a  soci- 
ety which,  in  point  of  orderly  arrangement,  harmony,  and  effec- 
tive cooperation  for  the  general  good,  shall  even  approach  the 
excellence  of  a  community  of  bees  ?  His  faculties,  his  powers, 
both  of  body  and  mind,  are  unquestionably  higher  than  theirs ; 
the  gregarious  appetite  or  passion  with  him  is  as  strong  ;  and  his 
happiness,  if  not  his  safety,  is  consequently  as  dependent  as 
theirs  on  the  perfection  of  the  arrangements  which  may  be  made 
for  living  and  working  in  company  with  his  fellows.  Why, 
then,  has  not  the  same  Almighty  Guide,  who  condescends  to 
order  and  sustain  the  economy  of  a  hive,  placed  man  also,  with- 
out any  effort  of  his  own,  in  a  perfect  social  state,  thus  saving 
him  from  the  disorder,  contention,  anarchy,  and  misrule,  the 
long  and  painful  recital  and  description  of  which  now  consti- 
tute the  history  of  the  human  race  ?  It  were  surely  as  easy 
to  do  this  for  man  as  for  an  insect ;  and  why,  then,  is  it  not 
equally  desirable  in  the  two  cases  ? 

There  can  be  but  one  answer  to  this  question.  It  is,  that  an 
improved  condition  of  society,  bestowed  at  once  by  the  free  gift 
of  the  Creator,  ifistead  of  being  attained  by  human  tanl  and 
effort,  is  not  an  end  so  desirable  as  that  very  unassisted  trial  and 


THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAN.  253 

effort,  however  costly  these  may  seem  in  respect  to  human  hap- 
piness or  mere  enjoyment.  He  who  complains  of  the  necessity 
of  this  labor,  and  thinks  it  an  impeachment  of  the  goodness 
of  God  that  the  object  cannot  be  acquired  without  it,  really  en- 
vies the  condition  of  an  insect,  who  is  led  blindfold,  but  in  abso- 
lute security,  to  the  fulfihnent  of  the  conditibns  of  his  existence. 
Will  he  consent  to  cliange  places  with  it  ?  I  do  not  yet  say 
that  the  lot  of  human  beings,  with  all  this  necessity  for  toil,  with 
all  their  liability  to  repeated  mistakes  and  failures,  and  conse- 
quent sufferings,  is  still  infinitely  higher  and  happier  than  that  of 
the  lower  orders  of  animal  life,  who  walk  darkling,  but  in  safety  ; 
who  have  no  liberty  of  choice,  and  so  never  mistake ;  who  are 
God-guided,  and  therefore  never  fail  of  the  end  that  is  placed 
before  them.  The  question  of  the  comparative  desirableness 
of  the  two  situations,  or  the  two  schemes  of  life,  as  they  may  be 
termed,  will  depend  on  the  result  of  our  subsequent  inquiry  into 
the  comparative  value  of  discipline  and  enjoyment ;  of  a  char- 
acter self-formed,  and  a  nature  endowed  and  wholly  controlled, 
however  happily,  by  another ;  of  virtue  united  with  freewill, 
and  happiness  enjoyed  of  necessity.  But  it  is  important  here 
to  understand  the  radical  difference  of  the  two  situations,  and 
the  consequences  which  necessarily  follow  from  the  different 
endowments  of  man  and  the  brute,  and  the  dissimilar  parts 
which  they  have  to  play  upon  the  theatre  of  creation. 

Why  physical  laws  are  permanent  and  uniform.  —  The  plan 
of  Divine  Pi*ovidence  in  the  government  of  the  universe  must 
be  studied  as  a  whole.  We  cannot  understand  the  economy  of 
one  of  the  parts  without  contrasting  it  with  that  of  the  others, 
and  seeing  how,  in  the  several  cases,  different  ends  are  obtained 
by  different  means,  and  one  end,  again,  made  subservient  to 
another  and  higher  one,  so  that  all  work  together  for  good. 
Man  is  not  the  only  denizen  of  the  earth,  nor  is  his  happiness 
the  single  purpose,  or  even  the  highest  purpose,  of  creation. 
His  improvement,  the  perfecting  of  his  moral  character  by  his 
own  choice  and  effort,  may  be  this  purpose ;  but  this  is  the 
point  to  be  established  by  our  present  inquiry.  We  have  seen 
that  the  course  of  merely  physical  events,  or  the  succession  of 

22 


254  THE   ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAW. 

what  are  called  cause-  and  effect  in  the  material  universe,  is* 
sustained  and  guided  by  the  immediate  agency  of  the  Deity, 
and  in  every  part  it  affords  sufhcient  evidence  of  his  wisdom 
and  power.  These  events  do  not  succeed  each  other  at  random, 
but  according  to  what  we  term  natural  law  ;  that  is,  in  a  fixed 
and  orderly  succession,  similar  antecedents  being  always  fol- 
lowed by  similar  consequents.  There  must  be  some  reason  for 
this  order  and  harmony,  some  purpose  to  be  accomplished  by 
it ;  for  as  each  event  is  caused  immediately,  or  without  the  in- 
tervention of  secondary  causes,  its  character  is  in  nowise  nec- 
essarily determined  by  ^he  event  which  preceded  it,  but  its 
occurrence,  if  the  Deity  had  so  willed,  might  have  been  marked 
by  Avholly  unprecedented  circumstances.  I  say  that  there  must 
be  some  reason  or  purpose  for  this  preservation  of  natural  law, 
because  all  physical  arrangements  and  adaptations,  all  the 
organisms  of  nature,  as  we  have  seen,  reveal  design ;  and  it  is 
inconsistent  with  the  Divine  wisdom  that  is  evinced  by  this  fact, 
to  suppose  that  any  thing  is,  or  takes  place,  in  vain,  or  without 
a  purpose. 

Permanency  of  law  not  needed  for  the  hrictes.  —  Now,  this 
regularity  .of  succession,  or  permanency  of  natural  law,  is  not 
needed  for  any  object  connected  with  the  animal  kingdom,  which 
is  inferior  to  man.  Brutes,  as  far  as  we  can  §ee,  make  no 
selection  of  means,  and  seem  wholly  ignorant,  indeed,  of  the 
difference  between  means  and  ends.  Every  act  performed  by 
them  appears  to  be  done  from  immediate  impulse,  or  desire 
relating  to  that  act  alone ;  they  are  literally  slaves  of  the  ap- 
jDctite  of  the  present  moment.  Of  the  subserviency  of  the 
action  to  some  result  which  is  to  take  place  hereafter,  of  its  fit- 
ness to  satisfy  some  future  want,  or  to  make  provision  for  sat- 
isfying it,  they  have  no  knowledge.  They  profit  not  by  expe- 
rience, and  indulge  in  no  anticipations ;  or,  at  any  rate,  they 
never  conform  their  conduct  to  anticipations  of  the  future.  The 
resemblance,  then,  of  the  present  and  future  to  the  past,  the  fact 
that  similar  events  may  be  expected  under  similar  circumstances, 
is  not  needed  for  their  guidance.  Order  and  harmony  are  not 
for  those  who  are  incapable  of  comparing  them  with  confusion 


THE    ACTIVE   POWERS    OF   MAN.  255 

and  discord,  and  who  could  not  profit  by  their  continuance. 
Limited  in  its  desires  and  feelings  to  the  present  moment,  look- 
ing neither  before  nor  behind,  and  so  incapable,  as  we  may 
suppose,  of  any  purely  intellectual  exercise,  the  animal  creation, 
excluding  man,  is  still  susceptible  of  enjoyment,  and  its  pleas- 
ures, as  they  are  evidently  not  of  its  own  procuring,  afford  the 
clearest  evidence  of  the  benevdlence  of  the  Deity.  The  ex- 
igencies of  their  situation,  the  wants  of  their  nature,  and  espec- 
ially the  continuance  of  their  species,  are  all  provided  for,  with- 
out any  tax  on  their  own  skill  or  energy,  by  the  same  power 
and  wisdom  which  ordained  their  existence.  i 

('  Moral purjiose  of  physicallaw.  —  The  predominance  of  law,  ^\ 
I  then,  in  the  course  of  nature  is  intended  for  the '  guidance  of 
man  ;7we  can  imagine  no  other  purpose  for  it.  It  is  a  por- 
tion of  the  scheme  of  Providence  for  the  government  of  a  being 
endowed  with  freewill,  furnished  with  motives  or  inducements 
to  action,  supplied  with  a  capacity  for  knowledge  and  means  of 
instruction,  and  then  left  by  his  own  effort  to  form  his  character 
and  shape  liis  destiny.  \  There  must  be  some  object  in  such  a 
plan  of  government  beyond  the  mere  production  of  happiness ;  — 
that  end,  as  has  been  shown,  is  sufficiently  answered  in  the 
case  of  the  lower  animals  by  simpler  means,  by  a  less  complex 
constitution  of  mind,  and  fewer  adaptations  to  it  of  external 
circumstances.  There  must  be  some  higher  and  more  desirable 
attainment  than  the  mere  sense  of  pleasure  or  enjoyment  for 
the  time ;  and  therefore,  the  subordination  of  the  lower  end  to 
the  higher,  !the  occasional  sacrifice  of  human  happiness  for  the 
promotion~""bf  a  worthier  object,  is  perfectly  consistent  with  the 
infinite  benevolence  of  the  Creator.  Man,  as  has  been  shown, 
has  no  instincts  whatever ;  appetites,  desires,  and  affections, 
relating  to  objects  immediately  before  him,  he  has  in  common 
with  the  brutes^,  and,  like  these,  he  is  susceptible  of  pleasure 
from  the  gratification  of  them.  But  he  has  no  means  of  fore- 
seeing the  exigencies  of  his  situation,  and,  of  course,  no  power 
of  providing  for  his  future  wants,  or  of  aspiring  to  any  thing 
higher  than  this  merely  sensual  pleasure,  except  from  what  his 
reason  teaches  him  respecting  the  course  of  nature,  and  the 


256  THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAN. 


laws  which  govern  the  succession  of  events.  ^  Reason;  proceeds 
only  by  experience  ;  and  the  lessons  of  experience  would  be  of 
no  worth,  they  would  be  mere   reminiscences   of  past  events, 

(j  without  any  inferences  deducible  from  them,  unless  the  course 
of  nature  were  uniform,  and  similar  circumstances  were  always 
attended  with  similar  results.  1 

This  doctrine,  that  the  fixed  laws  even  of  material  nature 
have  a  moral  purpose,  will  appear  to  most  persons,  I  am  well 
aware,  as  a  bold  and  fanciful  speculation.  [The  prevailing 
opinion,  though  it  be  not  often  openly  avowed,  is,  that  these 
laws  have  no  object  but  to  uphold  the  beauty  and  order,  the  stu- 
pendous mechanism,  of  the  outward  universe,  one  being  subor- 
dinated to  another,  or  included  in  it,  and  all  working  together  in 
grand  and  complex  harmony  to  keep  up  the  perpetual  cycle  of 
events,  and  sustain  the  unity  of  the   system  of  created  things.  1 

f  This,  I  am  sorry  to  believe,  is  the  prevailing  and  increasing 
tendency  of  the  physical  science  of  the  present  day,  —  to  reduce 
the  study  of  nature  to  the  determination  of  its  laws  or  regular- 
ities of  succession  and  arrangement,  to  maintain  that  any  one 
of  these  principles  has  no  object  or  function  but  its  subserviency 
to  a  higher  one,  and  that  the  widest  generalization  of  them  is 
the  highest  truth  attainable  by  the  human  faculties.*     Accord- 

*  One  great  cause  ol(infidelit^at  the  present  day  is  the  want  of  consis- 
tency,  the  apparent  contraHiction,  between  most  persons'  rehgious  views 
and  their  scientific  opinions,  or  their  ideas  of  the  course  of  nature  and  the 
operation  of  physical  causes.  The  doctrine  of  an  immediately  superin-jy* 
tending  &'.QXJ^Qncg^rderin^all_e\'^eHts  for  the  moral  instruction  and  gov-! 
emment  of  man,  cannot  be  reconciled  with  the  idea  of  a  chain  of  events, 
each  link  of  which  is  determined  by  an  inhei'ent  necessity,  growing  out 
of  its  relations  to  those  which  precede  and  follow  it  in  the  succession. 

Religion  requires  us  to  consider  ourselves  as  the  objects  of  a  Divine 
Providence,  of  an  infinite  superintending  care,  which  orders  all  events  for 
good.  This  doctrine  is  a  necessary  consequence  of  a  belief  in  the  benevo- 
lence and  justice  of  the  Deity,  and  in  his  moral  government  of  the  world. 
A  devout  mind  recognizes  it  almost  instinctively  as  such,  and  considers  all 
events,  especially  those  which  concern  one's  personal  welfare  or  happiness, 
as  dispensations  which  are  required  for  his  instruction  or  improvement.  It 
discerns  a  moral  purpose  in  all  things,  believing  that  they  ivere  speciallif 


U 


THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAN.  25T 

ing  to  this  view,  either  the  material  creation  had  no  purpose 
beyond  itself,  or  that  purpose  is  not  discoverable  by  man  ;  we 
must  look  upon  it,  indeed,  as  a  grand  and  marvellous  work ;  but 


designed  to  produce  a  certain  effect  on  tJie  character  and  heart.  It  silhOT- 
dinates  the  physical  to  the  moral;  regarding  the  former  as  means,  and  the 
latter  as  an  end.  Life  is  a  gift  and  a  trust,  to.  he  exeixise^d Jtor  certaia 
purposes ;  death  is  a  warning,  and  a  token  that,  in  a  particular  case,  these 
purposes  are  accomplished.  Every  cause  of  affliction  or  rejoicing  has  an 
errand  and  a  meaning,  and  it  is  our  duty  to  consider  it  as  such,  to  try  to 
read  its  lesson,  and  apply  it  for  the  regulation  of  our  hearts  and  Uves. 
This  is  the  view  which  the  believer  takes,  in  profession  at  least,  of  the 
affairs  of  this  world,  and  of  its  moral  government  by  the  Almighty;  it  is 
the  view  which  religion  requires  him  to  take,  if  it  be  not  reduced  to  a  mere 
speculative  belief  in  the  existence  of  a  God,  who  is  no  further  concerned 
with  the  lot  of  mankind  than  as  he  originally  created  them,  endowed 
them  with  certain  faculties,  and  placed  them  upon  the  earth  to  determine 
their  destiny  by  their  own  wisdom  and  their  observation  of  the  workings 
of  nature. 

But  in  practical  life  and  the  management  of  their  daily  concerns,  as  well 
as  in  scientific  investigations,  most  persQus  act  upon  a  theory  which  is  the 
very  opposite  of  this  religious  doctrine.  They  look  upon  the  course  of 
ey^nts  3S^ijm2itabI^^deterniined,  from  the  beginning,  by  the  inherent  constitu- 
tion  of  things  and  by  the  relations  of  objects  and  circumstances  to  each 
other,  without  reference  to  lJiem£rit  or  demerit  of  accountable  beings,  and  without 
regard  to  an^  moral  lesson  or  purpose  whatsoever.  Every  occurrence  in  the 
outward  universe  is  an  efficient  cause,  which  is  necessarily  followed  by  an 
effect  exactly  proportioned  to  it ;  and  this  effect,  again,  being  causal  in  its 
nature  as  to  the  events  which  follow  it,  inevitably  acts  upon  them  all,  and 
has  a  share  in  determining  their  character,  so  that  its  consequences  might 
be  traced,  —  if  we  had  the  power  of  distinguishing  them  from  the  similar 
operating  causes  with  which  they  are  mingled,  —  in  an  ever-widening 
stream,  through  all  time.  Life  and  death,  motion  and  rest,  health  and 
disease,  growth,  progress,  decay,  and  restoration,  are  all  necessarily  deter- 
mined by  each  other  and  by  attendant  circumstances,  and  follow  each 
other  in  perpetual  succession  ;  moral  good  or  evil  having,  at  most,  a  power 
loo  small  to  be  appreciated  in  checking  the  cuiTcnt  or  altering  its  direction. 
Man  himself,  though  his  freewill  be  admitted  as  one  of  the  causes  which 
affect  his  lot,  is  still  operated  upon  by  so  many  other  and  more  powerful 
ones,  that  he  seems  like  a  leaf  floating  upon  the  stream,  and  hurried  away 
by  it,  he  knows  not  whither.  His  birth  and  death,  to  recur  to  a  former 
illustration,  were  both  determined  ages  before  by  the  altered  position  of  a 
grain  of  sand.     He  is  for  ever  complaining  that  he  is  the  sport  of  circum- 

22* 


258  THE   ACTIVE    POWERS    OF   MAN. 

after  we  have  explored  all  its  recesses  and  fathomed  its  lowest 
depths,  the  only  impression  left  on  the  mind  is  a  vague  feeling 
of  wonder  and  admiration.     A  more  profound  philosophy  shows 


stances,  be  his  efforts  and  merits  what  they  may.  Even  his  character,  if 
we  may  believe  his  murmurings,  is  formed  rather  for  him  than  by  him, 
through  the  accident  of  his  birth  in  one  or  another  country,  in  a  higher 
or  lower  position  of  life,  and  through  the  circumstances  which  surrounded 
his  infancy  and  childhood,  before  either  body  or  mind  had  strength  enough 
to  contend  against  external  influences.  "Who  can  discern,  he  asks,  in 
moments  of  despondency,  the  watchfulness  and  justice  of  an  ever-ruling 
Providence,  or  any  moral  intention  whatsoever,  amid  this  chaos  of  blind 
and  conflicting  forces  ?  When  in  such  a  mood,  the  highest  virtue  within 
his  reach,  or  the  one  most  essential  to  his  well-being,  seems  to  be  the 
Stoicism  which  teaches  insensibility  to  hardship  and  wrong,  and  the  stifling 
of  all  generous  aspirations. 

Do  I  exaggerate  the  inconsistency,  then,  between  what  may  be  called 
the  religious  and  the  practical  view  of  life  ?  Is  it  possible  for  the  two  to 
coexist  in  the  same  mind,  without  the  individual  becoming  conscious  at 
times  that  they  are  wholly  iiTCconcilable  with  each  other,  so  that  he  is  re- 
duced to  the  sad  necessity  of  choosing  between  them  1  Either  God  gov- 
erns the  world,  or  the  blind  fatality  of  physical  caixses,  oj^erating  through 
the  powers  inherent  in  every  atom  of  brute  matter,  governs  it ;  there  is  no 
other  alternative.  In  his  closet,  or  while  listening  to  a  sermon,  or  under 
the  afiliction  caused  by  a  recent  bereavement,  or  in  near  view  of  approaching 
death,  man  accepts  the  former  doctrine,  and  thinks  that  he  believes  it, 
though  he  has  made  no  examination  of  the  grounds  on  which  it  rests. 
But  he  goes  out  into  the  world,  his  mind,  as  he  sxapposes,  recovers  its  tone, 
he  watches  the  course  of  events,  judges  of  the  future  by  the  past,  prepares 
to  resist  the  force  of  circumstances  or  to  yield  to  them,  and  acts  altogether 
on  the  supposition  that  these  events  and  circumstances  depend  on  natural 
causes,  which  operate  irresistibly,  and  were  not  designed  or  dii-ected  by  a 
conscious  being  with  any  moral  or  spiritual  purpose  whatever. 

And  here,  I  apprehend,  is  the  reason  why  scientific  pursuits  have  not, 
of  late,  always  tended  to  confirm  the  religious  faith  of  those  who  were  en- 
gaged in  them.  It  is  the  business  of  the  man  of  science  to  discover  the 
invariable  connections  and  sequences  of  facts  and  events,  and  to  separate 
these  from  the  casual,  temporary,  and  irregular  combinations  which  throw 
no  light  upon  the  nature  of  the  phenomena.  This  attempt  has  been 
crowned  of  late  years  with  the  most  brilliant  success,  the  dominion  of  law, 
as  it  is  called,  having  been  everywhere  established  in  the  midst'  of  what 
seemed  to  be  the  greatest  variety  and  confusion.  The  laws  of  nature,  we 
are  told,  admit  of  no  exceptions ;  seeming  anomalies  and  contradictious, 


THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF   MAN.  259 

ML  that  tlie  object  of  God's  works  is  not  merely  to  astonish 
but  to  teach.  To  borrow  the  eloquent  words  of  Dr.  Channmg 
"  Mmd  is  God's  first  end.     The  great  purpose,  for  which  an 


when  further  studied,  arc  found  to  exemplify  a  higher  law,  or  to  com« 
from  the  mingled  operatioa  of  two  or  more  principles,  so  that  the  apparent 
exception  confirms  the  rule.  But  the  moral  effect  or  tendency  of  a  phe- 
nomenon is  not  found  to  be  one  of  its  invariable  characteristics,  and  so, 
even  when  observed,  it  is  considered  only  as  a  fortuitous  coincidence, 
which  indicates  nothing  as  to  the  fixed  relations  of  events,  and  therefore 
eomes  not  within  the  field  which  the  student  of  nature  endeavors  to  survey. 
The  mere  separation  of  the  moral  from  the  physical  sciences,  and  the 
division  of  labor  which  assigns  one  class  of  men  exclusively  to  the  study 
of  the  latter,  necessarily  draw  off  their  attention  from  those  observations 
and  inquiries  which  give  a  meaning  and  a  purpose  to  natural  phenomena, 
and  which  lead  us  from  the  study  of  this  fabric  of  the  universe  up  to  the 
character  and  intentions  of  its  Almighty  Architect.  If  this  search  after 
the  necessary  and  immutable  relations  of  things,  in  which  the  followers  of 
physical  science  are  wholly  absorbed.,  has  led  many  of  them  to  doubt 
whether  man's  own  nature  be  not  subject  to  a  like  inevitable  control  with 
that  which  governs  the  fall  of  an  atom  and  the  courses  of  the  planets,  and 
so  to  reduce  the  human  will  to  a  phenomenon  of  the  same  class  with 
gravitation,  all  the  effects  of  which  may  be  predicted  beforehand  from  its 
known  laws,  why  should  we  wonder  that  most  of  them  practically  regard 
external  nature  as  mere  mechanism,  which  has  no  motive  power  save  two 
or  three  inherent  and  inexplicable  forces,  and  is  strictly  limited  to  the  pro- 
duction of  mechanical  results. 

In  opposition  to  this  view,  I  have  endeavored,  in  the  First  Part  of  this 
work,  to  prove  that  physical  laws  are  no  causes  at  all,  but  are  mere  ex- 
pressions of  the  order  and  uniformity  of  physical  phenomena,  so  that  to 
attribute  eflicient  causation  to  them  is,  in  fact,  an  abuse  of  words,  or  a 
meaningless  statement ;  and  that  all  the  phenomena  are  directly  produced 
by  the  immediate  action  of  the  Deity.  In  this  Second  Part,  I  proceed 
to  show,  Jirst,  that  the  physical  laws  themselves,  or  the  order  and  uniform- 
ity of  events  in  nature,  have  a  general  and  exclusively  moral  purpose,  being 
intended  solely  for  the  guiiianee  of  man ;  and,  secondli/,  that  the}'  have  a 
specific  moral  purpose,  many  or  all  of  them  being  intended  to  enforce  upon 
man  the  observance  of  the  moral  law  or  the  commands  of  God.  Having 
proved  before,  that  God  works  immediately  in  nature,  we  now  show  that 
the  effects  of  his  agency  are  not  merely  physical,  but  moral.  Not  only 
order  and  uniformity,  but  justice  and  benevolence,  arc  the  laws  of  his 
creation.  The  lessons  which  the  universe  teaches  are  addressed  to  the 
coEscieijce,  no  less  thaa  to  the  intellect,  of  man. 


260  THE    ACTIVE   POWERS    OF   MAN. 

order  of  nature  is  fixed,  is  plainly  the  formation  of  mind.  In 
a  creation  without  order,  where  events  would  follow  without 
any  regular  succession,  it  is  obvious  that  mind  must  be  kept  in 
perpetual  infancy ;  for  in  such  a  universe,  there  could  be  no 
reasouuig  from  effects  to  causes,  no  induction  to  establish  general 
truths,  no  adaptation  of  means  to  ends;  that  is,  no  science 
relating  to  God,  or  matter,  or  mind ;  no  action,  no  virtue."* 

Analysis  of  the  principles  of  human  action,  —  As  we  are 
compelled  to  admit,  then,  that  there  is  a  higher  purpose  in  the 
Divine  government  than  the  mere  promotion  of  happiness,  that 
end  being  sufficiently  provided  for  in  the  constitution  of  the 
lower  animals,  we  come  to  an  examination  of  what  Dugald 
Stewart  calls  "  the  active  and  moral  powers  of  man,"  as  our 
means  of  discovering  what  that  purpose  is.  The  first  fact  that 
strikes  us  here  is,  that]  most  of  the  lower  incitements^  action  — 
all  the  appetites^  and  most  of  the  desires  and  affectional  —  are 
common  to  the  human  and  the  hrute  mind.  They  involve  no 
exercise  of  reason ;  they  are  blind,  but  mierring,  in  their  opera- 
tion, and  they  supply  a  stimulus  for  exertion,  which  is  either 
constant,  or  recm^s  at  frequent  intervals.  Their  indulgence 
brings  with  it  certain  consequences ''of  good  or  evil,  according 
as  their  proper  limits  have  been^observed  or  transgressed;  but 
the  perception  of  such  consequences  is  not  necessarj^  to  their  vital- 
ity or  efficiency  as  motives  to  action  A  This  will  be  readily 
admitted  in  regard  to  the  appetites,  such  as  those  of  hunger  and 
tliirst,  for  instance.  They  first  manifest  themselves  by  a  sense 
of  uneasiness,  which  subsides,  and  is  followed  by  a  feeling  of 
enjoyment,  as  soon  as  they  are  gratified.  Afterwards,  indeed, 
the  recollection  of  this  enjoyment  will  be  associated  mth  the 
primitive  craving,  and  may  lead  us  to  stimulate  or  provoke  it 
with  a  view  to  the  pleasure  which  is  to  come  from  its  indulgence. 
But  this  association  was  not  needed  to  excite  the  appetites  at 
first ;  and  though  it  may  heighten,  it  certainly  does  not  wholly 
create,  the  pleasure  which  they  subsequently  afford. 

Final  cause  of  the  lower  imjndses  to  action,  —  The  only  other 
remark  needed  as  to  these  original  impulses  is,  that  their 
adaptation  to  the  necessities  of  the  body,  their  graduated  and 


THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAN.  261 

periodically  recurring  influence,  is  in  itself  a  beautiful  instance 
of  design.  Life  is  preserved  by  coupling  with  that  which  is 
necessary  for  its  preservation  an  imperative,  but  blind  desire, 
which  is  not  subject  to  the  will,  and  is  thus  guarded  against  the 
effects  of  inattention  or  carelessness.  The  uncertainty  of  the 
voluntary  action  of  mind,  the  intermittent  and  fitful  char-, 
acter  of  attention  and  reason,  is  not  permitted  to  hazard  the 
performance  of  those  acts  on  which  our  continued  existence 
depends.  The  appetites  are  aided  by  other  propensities,  tend- 
ing either  to  action  or  repose,  which  are  equally  blind,  and  go  to 
keep  up  that  salutary  medium  between  sluggishness  and  undue 
exertion,  which  is  necessary  for  the  health  both  of  body  and 
mind. 

Purpose  and  function  of  the  affections  and  desires.  —  The 
desires  and  affections,  which  I  come  next  to  consider,!  are  dis- "] 
tinguished  from  the  appetites  in  so  far  as  they  do  not  take  their  (  2 
rise  from  the  body,  nor  operate  periodically ;  but  they  agree  ' 
with  them  in  being  independent  of  reflection  and  calculation,  and 
in  tending  directly  towards  specific  objects  as  their  ultimate  ends,  ^ 
We  can  give  no  further  account  of  them,  nor  explain  their  pref- 
erence of  one  object  over  another,  otherwise  than  by  saying, 
that  such  is  the  constitution  of  our  being.  Jouffroy  calls  them 
the  primitive  and  instinctive  tendencies  of  human  nature,  which 
show  themselves  in  man  almost  from  the  first  moment  of  his 
existence,  and  develop  and  strengthen  themselves  with  every 
step  that  he  takes  towards  maturer  years.  Among  these  origi- 
nal desires  may  be  mentioned  the  love  of  knowledge,  of  society, 
of  approbation,  of  power,  and  many  other  things,  the  number  of 
which  will  depend  on  the  fineness  of  our  analysis  of  the  several 
objects,  or  on  our  principles  of  classification.  Why  we  should 
desire  these  things  rather  than  their  opposites,  is  a  question  that 
we  are  no  more  able  to  answer,  than  we  are  to  tell  why  certain 
odors  are  pleasant,  and  others  offensive,  or  why  glass  is  trans- 
parent, and  metal  opaque.  The  desu'es  exist  in  greater  or  less 
strength  in  different  minds,  but  in  some  degree,  they  are  common 
to  all  minds  ;  for  without  them,  man  would  sink  into  a  state  of 
entire  inaction  and  repose,  or  rather,  he  would  never  have 


262  THE    ACTIVE    POWETIS    OF    MAN. 

risen  out  of  such  a  condition.  He  would  still  be  capable  of  in- 
ert contemplation  and  reverie  ;  a  perpetual  succession  of  loosely 
connected  images  and  ideas  might  float  for  ever  before  the 
mind,  and  with  these  might  be  coupled  a  consciousness  of  exist- 
ence, —  all  without  the  will  ever  being  called  into  activity. 
But  to  live  and  to  think  are  not  the  only  ends  of  our  creation. 
Action  is  necessary  for  our  improvement  and  our  happiness,  and 
the  necessary  stimulus  to  action  is  supplied  by  these  several 
desires,  the  number  and  variety  of  which  open  a  wide  field  for 
effort,  and  permit  many  to  labor  side  by  side  with  less  risk  of 
interference. 

These  desires  are  among  the  earliest  manifestations  of  the 
infant  mind.  Tliey  do  not  wait  for  the  development  of  the  in- 
telligence, nor  are  the  teachings  of  experience  or  the  instructions 
of  our  fellow-beings  needed  to  call  them  forth,  or  to  keep  them 
in  exercise.  The  infant  shows  the  love  of  society  and  of  appro- 
bation almost  as  soon  as  the  appetite  of  hunger.  "Attend  only," 
says  a  distinguished  naturalist,  "  to  the  eyes,  the  features,  and 
the  gestures  of  a  child  on  the  breast  when  another  child  is  pre- 
sented to  it ;  —  both  instantly,  previous  to  the  possibility  of 
instruction  or  habit,  exhibit  the  most  evident  expressions  of  joy. 
Their  eyes  sparkle,  and  their  features  and  gestures  demonstrate, 
in  the  most  unequivocal  manner,  a  mutual  attachment.  When 
further  advanced,  children  who  are  strangers  to  each  other, 
though  their  social  appetite  be  equally  strong,  discover  a  mu- 
tual shyness  of  approach,  which,  however,  is  soon  conquered  by 
the  more  powerful  instinct  of  association." 

The  desires  are  UBselJish.  —  But  a  stronger  proof  of  the  prim- 
itive and  unreflecting  character  of  these  desires  is  the  fact,  that 
most,  if  not  all,  of  them  are  shown  in  various  degrees  of  inten- 
sity by  the  lower  animals.  Emulation  is  the  prevailing  trait  in 
the  disposition  of  a  horse,  as  the  love  of  approbation  is  in  that 
of  a  dog,  and  the  desire  for  society  in  that  of  all  the  gregarious 
animals.  In  these  cases,  certainly,  it  is  not  the  utility  of  the 
several  objects  that  are  aimed  at,  or  the  pleasure  which  they 
are  capable  of  imparting,  that  is  the  foundation  of  the  desire ; 
for  this  pleasure  is  made  known  only  by  experience,  the  utility 


THE    ACTIVE   POWERS    OF   MAN,  2-63 

is  discoverable  by  reason  alone;  and  brutes  .are  Incapable  of 
profiting  by  the  one  or  the  other.  It  is  a  proof  of  the  goodness 
of  God,  that  these  animals  and  human  beings  are  so  organized, 
their  sensibilities  are  such,  that  tlie  gratification  of  these  desires 
is  generally  accompanied  by  a  pleasurable  feeling,  or  a  sense 
of  enjoyment.  But  this  is  not  a  necessary  accompaniment ;  we 
can  easily  conceive  of  a  sensibility  so  constituted,  that  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  desire  should  be  attended  with  pain  instead  of 
pleasure  ;  and  yet  the  desire  would  be  not  the  less  real,  not  the 
less  a  stimulus  to  action.  In  fact,  under  certain  circumstances, 
in  certain  states  of  body  or  mind,  the  satisfaction  of  our  longings 
does  become  a  source  of  torment,  instead  of  happiness  ;  Heaven 
punishes  us  by  granting  our  guilty  prayers ;  and  though  this 
result  be  foreseen,  though  we  have  a  moral  certainty  that  more 
pain  than  pleasure  will  be  the  consequence  of  the  accomplish- 
ment of  our  wishes,  we  persist  in  the  effort.  The  vehemence 
of  the  desire  conquers  every  thing,  — =-  even  our  regard  for  our 
own  happiness.  .  "  / 

^  The  offections)are  original  tendencies  of  our  nature_\ — I  have 
dwelt  the  longer  on  the  uncalculating,  and  therefore,  in  one 
sense  of  the  term,  unselfish,  nature  of  the  original  appetites  and 
desires,  in  order  to  prepare  the  way  for  a  similar  conclusion 
(where  it  is  more  important)  in  regard  to  the  last  class  of  these 
primitive  impulses  which  we  have  to  consider,  —  namely,  the 
affections.  These  are  usually  divided  into  two  classes,  accord-^; 
ing  as  their  object  is  the  communication  of  enjoyment  or  of  suf-  \ 
fering  to  our  fellow-beings.  In  the  first  class  are  reckoned  the 
affections  of  kindred,  of  friendshij),  patriotism,  P^tyf  gratitude, 
and  the  like  ;  in  the  second  are  comj)rised  hatred,  jealousy,  envy, 
and  revenge,  all  of  which,  however,  are  more  properly  consid- 
ered as  modifications  of  the  single  principle  of  resentment._ 
"What  benevolent  purposes  are  answered  by  ingi'afting  these 
principles  in  the  human  constitution,  is  a  point  for  subsequent 
consideration.  My  only  present  aim  is  to  show  that  these 
affections,  like  the  simple  appetites  and  desires,  are  original 
tendencies  of  our  nature,  and  point  towards  theii'  several  ob- 
jects  simply  from  an  instinctive  liking  for  those  objects,  and  - 


264  THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF   MAN. 

without  any  regard  to  the  pleasure  or  pain  which  maj  attend 
the  exercise  of  the  affections  themselves  on  the  part  of  those 
who  feel  them ;  in  other  words,  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as 
benevolent  affection,  original  and  unmixed.  There  is  pleasure 
consequent  on  their  entertainment,  but  a  desire  to  receive  that 
pleasure  is  not  the  reason  why  we  entertain  them.  "We  do  this 
^  because  we  cannot  help  it.  Under  certain  circumstances,  we 
are  affected  with  love,  pity,  gratitude,  or  resentment,  whether 
we  will  or  no ;  we  admit  these  feelings  as  necessarily  as  the 
understanding  yields  assent  on  the  presentation  of  sufficient 
evidence.  /  We  act  in  accordance  with  them,  not  from  any  self- 
ish desire  of  the  pleasure  or  profit  which  such  action  will  occa- 
sion to  ourselves,  but  because  the  affection  itself  prompts  us  to 
act ;  and  this  prompting  would  be  felt,  though  injury  or  death 
should  be  tlfe  consequence  of  yielding  to  it.  I  Why  has  it  ever 
been  supposed  that  it  was  otherwise  ? 

Origin  of  prudence  6r  self-love^ —  To  answer  this  question,  I 
must  explain  the  origin  of  the'Teeling  of  self-love,  and  the  nature 
of  ike  selfsh  system  in  morals,  as  it  is  called,  which  attempts  to 
reduce  all  motives,  and  refer  all  conduct,  to  this  single  principle. 
As  every  appetite,  desire,  and  affection,  when  gratified,  brings 
with  it  a  sense  of  enjoyment,  the  sum  of  these  several  enjoyments 
constitutes  our  idea  of  happiness.  Experience  of  pleasure,  of 
course,  brings  with  it  a  desire  of  its  recurrence  ;  and  as  we  wish 
that  this  pleasure  should  be  as  extensive  and  varied  as  possible, 
we  are  led  to  study  the  art  of  so  combining  and  regulating  our 
motives  and  actions,  that  one  shall  not  interfere  with  another, 
and  that  the  general  result  shall  be  the  maximum  of  enjoyment. 
Reason  teaches  us  often  to  sacrifice  a  less  pleasure  for  a  greater, 
or  to  postpone  a  momentary  indulgence  for  a  larger  and  more 
permanent  good  to  be  obtained  hereafter.  To  borrow  the  lan- 
guage of  a  great  moralist,  "any  condition  may  be  denominated 
happy,  in  which  the  amount  or  aggregate  of  pleasure  exceeds 
that  of  pain,  and  the  degree  of  happiness  depends  upon  the 
quantity  of  this  excess."  Reason,  guided  by  experience,  that 
is,  by  the  materials  afforded  by  the  gratification  of  the  several 
desires,  decides  upon  the  course  of  conduct  which  will  raise  this 


THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF   MAN.  265 

excess  of  pleasure  over  pain  to  the  highest  attainable  point ; 
and  to  act  from  this  rational  and  calculating  regard  for  our  own 
interest^  is  said  to  he  the  dictate  of  self-love. 

(Prtidence  first  distinguishes  man  from  the  brutes.  —  Here, 
first,  in  the  active  part  of  his  nature,  does  man  show  his  superi- 
ority over  the  brute.  The  latter,  unable  to  profit  by  experience, 
and  incapable  of  foresight,  cannot  regulate  its  actions  by  a  sys- 
tem, or  plan  of  life,  but  necessarily  follows  the  impidse  or  desire 
of  the  moment.  The  complex  and  abstract  idea  of  happiness 
lies  beyond  its  power  of  conception.  It  cannot  foresee  even 
the  enjoyment  which  will  follow  the  gratification  of  its  present 
appetite,  but  it  acts  under  the  immediate  pressure  of  that  appe- 
tite, almost  as  mechanically  as  a  machine  moves  from  the  im- 
pulse given  to  it  by  a  spring,  ^or  all  the  loiver  animals,  pru- 
dence is  an  impossible  virtue  |  but  ivith  man,  it  is  the  dawning  ^ 
of  his  intellectual  and  moral  life,  the  first  step  which  he  takes 
as  a  rational  and  self-improving  being.  He  can  restrain  the 
impulse  of  the  moment,  be  it  appetite,  affection,  or  desire,  till  he 
can  study  the  consequences)  of  yielding  to  it,!  till  he  can  remem- 
ber what  was  the  effect  of  a  former  gratification  of  it,  till  he  can 
ascertain  if  there  be  not  other  objects  which  he  desires  more 
earnestly,  while  the  attainment  of  them  will  be  hindered  or  ren- 
dered impossible  by  the  present  indulgence.  To  act  thus  delib- 
erately, with  reflection  and  foresight,  is  the  part  of  prudence ; 
I  this  is  the  lowest  in  the  scale  of  virtues,  for  it  ends  in  self ;  but 
it  is  also  the  first,  for,  without  it,  the  practice  of  any  other  virtue 
would  seldom  he  possible.]  By  the  exercise  of  it  man  first  rises 
above  the  condition  of  the  brutes,  and  manifests,  not,  indeed,  a 
moral  nature,  properly  so  called,  but  the  capacity  of  receiving 
such  a  nature,  and  of  acting  up  to  its  dictates.  jHere,  also, 
where  morality  first  becomes  practicable,  was  placed,  as  you  will  ^ 
remember,  the  decisive  evidence  of  human  freewill,  —  in  man's 
power  of  governing  and  restraining  for  a  time  the  operation  of 
motives,  till  he  could  consider  and  select  from  them  a  fitting 
principle  of  action. 

How  far  self-love  is  legitimate.  —  Prudence,  which  I  here  use 
as  synonymous  with  self-love,  is  only  a  well-considered  and  dis- 

23 


266  THE    ACTIVK    POWERS    OP   MAN. 

passionate  regard  for  our  own  future  welfare;  and,  as  such,  it 
Ts  perfectly  leg.itimate,  and  even  commendable,  when  it  interferes 
not  with  higher  obligations.  Its  function  is  supervisory,  and  its 
sphere  embraces  all  the  lower  incitements  to  action,  which  we 
have  already  considered'  It  is  a  governor  and  a  judge  among 
the  appetites,  affections,  and  desires ;  restraining,  regulating,  or 
indulging  them,  at  the  bidding  of  the  sovereign  reason.  If  it 
abdicates  its  throne,  man  becomes  a  mere  brute,  —  that  is,  a 
slave  to  the  impulses  and  passions  of  the  instant.  If  it  rules 
too  absolutely,  usurping  or  disregarding  the  authority  of  a  higher 
faculty,  namely,  the  conscience,  then  man  becomes,  not  a  brute, 
but  a  demon,  or  an  utterly  selfish  bein^  There  is  much  less 
danger  of  this  perversion  of  the  faculty  than  of  the  former 
one,  for  men  yield  far  more  readily  to  their  immediate  pas- 
sions than  to  calculations  of  their  future  interest.  "  A  regard 
to  our  own  general  happiness,"  says  Sir  James  Mackintosh,}  the 
safest  and  most  philosophical  of  all  modern  commentators  upon 
the  theory  of  ethics,!  "  is  not  a  vice,  but  in  itself  an  excellent 
quality.  It  were  well,  if  it  prevailed  more  generally  over 
craving  and  shortsighted  appetites.  The  weakness  of  the  social 
affections,  and  the  strength  of  the  private  desires,  properly 
constitute  selfishness ;  — -a  vice  utterly  at  variance  with  the  hap- 
piness of  him  who  harbors  it,  and  as  such  condemned  by  self- 
love." 

Explmiation  of  the  selfish  system.  —  But  the  fact,  that  the 
lower  incitements  to  action  are  under  the  government  of  pru- 
dence, and  are  directed  with  reference  to  our  future  welfare, 
has  given  rise  to  the  monstrous  theory  in  morals,  that  man's 
whole  conduct  is  determined  by  the  love  of  self ^  and  that  he  is 
incapable  of  disinterested  action.  He  seeks  only  his  own  in- 
terest, says  Hobbes,  and  virtue,  consequently,  is  but  a  name. 
The  benevolent  affections  are  placed  on  the  same  level  wuth  the 
private  desires,  such  as  those  of  emulation  and  revenge ;  be- 
^  cause  pleasure,  or  some  ulterior  advantage,  follows  the  gratifi- 
cation of  them,  we  are  said  to  yield  to  them  only  from  a  view 
to  our  own  happiness.  The  passions  to  which  we  give  separate 
names  differ  from  each  other,  according  to  Hobbes,  only  in  their 


THE   ACTIVE   POWERS    OP   MAN.  267 

outward  aspect,  —  that  is,  with  reference  to  the  different  objects 
towards  which  they  are  turned ;  at  bottom,  they  are  but  modifi- 
cations of  tlie  only  true  passion  of  which  human  nature  is  sus- 
ceptible, —  the  love  of  self.  If  we  honor  or  reverence  another 
being,  he  says,  it  is  only  because  we  are  aware  of  his  superior 
power,  and  we  desire  to  conciliate  his  good-will.  Ridicule  is 
only  an  intense  conception  of  our  own  superiority  to  the  person 
who  is  laughed  at.  Love,  even  that  of  a  mother  for  her  child, 
is  but  prudent  forecast,  a  lively  anticipation  of  the  services 
which  may  be  hereafter  rendered  us  by  the  loved  object.  Pity 
is  the  imagination  of  evil  which  may  happen  to  ourselves,  ex- 
cited by  contemplating  the  misfortunes  of  another.  To  he  char- 
itahle  is  only  to  be  proudly  conscious  of  having  power  enough 
not  merely  to  create  (pur  own  happinesSj^Jbut  to  promote  the 
happiness  of  another.  Thus,  because  the  goodness  of  God  has 
so  ordered  the  course  of  events,  and  so  formed  our  hearts  and 
minds,  that  every  kindly  and  noble  feeling  is  its  own  reward, 
and  every  generous  and  virtuous  action  redounds  even  to  the 
temporal  advantage  of  the  agent,  does  the  perverse  ingenuity 
of  the  theorist  twist  all  these  feelings  into  forms  of  selfishness, 
and  represent  the  action  as  only  simulating  the  virtues  of  which 
human  nature  is  really  incapable.  Because  honesty  in  the 
long  run  is  the  best  policy,  we  are  said  to  be  honest  only  be- 
cause we  are  politic,  and  dread  the  consequences  of  detected 
knavery. 

Refutation  of  this  system.  —  This  repulsive  and  degrading 
theory  could  never  have  obtained  the  notice  which  it  has  re- 
ceived, if  it  had  not  been  urged  with  great  ability  by  Hobbes, 
a  reasoner  of  singular  acuteness,  and  one  of  the  greatest  mas- 
ters of  prose  style  in  the  English  language.  The  refutation  of 
it  has  already  been  laid  before  you, (m  the  obvious  fact,  that  the\ 
primitive  passions  and  desires  all  seek  their  several  ends  irrespec- 
tive of  the  consequences  of  their  gratification.  We  claim  no 
more  for  the  social  desires  than  for  the  appetites.  A  man 
drinks  because  he  is  thirsty,  and  not  in  order  to  preserve  life, 
though  death  would  be  the  consequence  of  an  utter  privation  of 
liquids  ;  just  so,  he  seeks  society  because  he  is  gregarious  by 


268  THE   ACTIVE   POWERS    OF   MAN. 

nature,  and  not  on  account  of  the  advantages  he  may  derive 
from  the  cooperation  of  his  fellows,  signal  as  these  advantages 
are  found  to  be.  In  fact,  he  never  could  have  known  that  so- 
ciety would  be  useful  to  him  except  from  experience ;  and  he 
could  certainly  have  had  no  experience  till  a  society  was  first 
formed.  Men  were  first  brought  together,  then,  without  a  pos- 
sibility of  being  acquainted  with  the  only  motives  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  selfish  system,  could  ever  bring  them  together. 

Again,  man  is  at  one  time  benevolent  or  compassionate,  just 
as  he  is  revengeful  at  another,  without  regard  in  either  case  to 
the  effect  which  giving  way  to  the  emotion  may  have  upon  his 
own  well-being.  When  stung  by  a  keen  sense  of  wrong,  he  will 
often  prosecute  his  revenge  to  the  utter  destruction  of  what  are 
called  his  worldly  prospects,  and  knowing  all  the  while  that  he 
is  rushing  upon  his  ruin.  So,  if  his  pity  is  strongly  excited,  he 
will  attempt  to  relieve  the  distress  in  a  manner  which  a  mo- 
ment's reflection  would  have  assured  him  would  do  great  injury 
to  himself  and  to  society,  without  materially  benefiting  the  ob- 
ject of  compassion.  It  is  plain,  therefore,  thatf^Ae  benevolent 
affections  are  just  as  uncalculating  and  disinterested  as  their  op- 
posites,  or  those  which  tend  to  the  harm  of  others,  —  and  no  more 
so.  In  truth,  a  theory  which  represents  the  affection  of  a  mother, 
when  hanging  over  the  cradle  of  her  child,  as  dictated  only  by 
a  selfish  regard  for  the  comfort  and  advantage  which  that  child 
may  hereafter  afford  to  her  declining  years,  hardly  merits  re- 
futation. Why,  the  brute  feels  this  affection,  if  we  may  judge 
from  appearances,  quite  as  strongly  as  the  human  being ;  and 
we  know  that  the  brute  is  incapable  of  calculating  consequences. 

The  (qffectioYisare  not  virtues.  —  I  have  dwelt  thus  long  upon 
the  selfish  system,  only  to  l)ring  out  into  a  stronger  light  the  un- 
reflecting and  irrational  character  of  all  the  direct  incentives  to 
action,  including  the  affections  and  sentiments,  as  well  as  the 
appetites,  and  so  to  justify  the  arrangement  of  them  under  so 
low  an  attribute  even  as  prudence  or  self-love;  the  sphere  of 
conscience,  or  the  proper  domain  of  morality,  being  as  yet 
hardly  in  sight.  ',  Our  natural  affections,  as  Dugald  Stewart  ^^v^ 
observes,  "  cannot  be  exalted  into  virtues  ;  for  in  so  far  as  they     ^  ' 


THE   ACTIVE    POWERS    OF   MAN.  269 

arise  from  original  constitution,  they  confer  no  merit  whatever 
on  the  individual,  any  more  than  his  appetites  or  desires  ;  —  at 
the  same  time,  there  is  a  manifest  gi'adation  in  the  sentiments 
of  respect  with  which  we  regard  these  different  constituents  of 
character.  Our  desires,  although  not  virtuous  in  themselves, 
are  manly  and  respectable,  and  plainly  of  greater  dignity  than 
our  animal  appetites.  In  like  manner,  it  may  be  remarked, 
that  our  benevolent  affections,  although  not  meritorious,  are 
highly  amiable^ 

To  follow  the  blind  impulse  of  a  sentiment  or  emotion  which 
is  not  controlled  or  sanctioned  by  any  higher  faculty,  is  conduct 
little  worthy  of  a  rational  being.  Yet  human  nature  is  far  more 
prone  to  this  fault,  than  to  the  opposite  excess  of  listening  to  the 
cautious  whisperings  of  self-love,  which  looks  not  only  to  pres- 
ent gratification,  but  to  future  and  permanent  well-being.  There 
is  an  exaltation  in  fine  sentiment,  a  nobleness  in  the  generous 
affections,  which  hurries  away  the  will,  before  consequences  can 
be  estimated,  or  the  craims  even  of  justice  can  obtain  a  hearing. 
But  such  enthusiasm  is  usually  barren  of  good  results,  and  how- 
ever amiable  it  may  appear  in  the  eyes  of  the  unthinking,  it 
must  not  arrofjate  to  itself  the  rewards  of  self-sacrificinnr  virtue. 
In  such  conduct,  indeed,  there  is  no  abnegation  of  self;  for 
without  refleetion  and  forethought,  there  can  be  no  conscious- 
ness of  any  advantage  that  is  resigned,  or  any  enjoyment  that  is 
sacrificed.  To  act  thus  is  the  part  rather  of  reckless  and  short-  < 
sighted  selfishness,  which  covets  the  brief  pleasure  that  always 
follows  the  immediate  gratification  of  the  impulse  of  the  mo- 
ment, whether  that  impulse  tends  to  the  welfare  or  the  injury 
of  our  fellow-beings.  It  cannot  be  amiss  to  determine,  as  I 
have  attempted  to  do,  the  true  moral  character  of  these  original 
incitements  to  action,  since  it  is  part  of  the  philosophy  of  the 
day,  so  called,  to  yield  them  implicit  obedience.     But  I  pass  on. 

Self-love  subservient  to  conscience.  —  Prudence,  or  self-love, 
is  distinguished  from  its  rightful  superior,  tlKi  moral  faculty,  in 
this,  —  that  it  has  regard  only  to  the  outward  consequences  of 
actions.-  It  governs  and  directs  the  desires  and  affections  with 
a  view  to  the  effects,  whether  near  or  remote,  which  their  in- 

23* 


270  THE   ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAN. 

dulgence  will  have  upon  our  future  welfare.  I  Its  functions, 
therefore,  are  rational,  but  not  properly  moral\;  while  the  mo-, 
tives  that  it  governs,  as  has  been  shown,  are  animal,  for  they 
are  common  to  man  and  the  brute.  Prudence  never  considers 
the  nature  of  the  motive  in  itself,  before  it  passes  into  action, 
but  only  questions  whether  it  may  be  indulged  to  advantage  in 
respect  to  the  events  which  will  folloAv  its  indulgence.  It  is  the 
servant  of  conscience,  then,  which  never  looks  beyond  the  inner 
man,  and  never  speaks  but  with  absolute  authority. 

The  affections  evince  benevolent  design.  —  Before  considering 
the  nature  and  functions  of  conscience,  w^hich  is  the  only  point 
wanting  to  complete  our  survey  of  the  moral  nature  of  man,  it 
remains  to  be  seen  w^hether  the  affections  are  so  constituted  as 
to  afford  any  indications  of  the  goodness  and  the  will  of  the 
Deity.  As  they  are  primitive  in  their  character,  or  parts  of  the 
original  constitution  of  our  being,  whatever  adaptations  may  bo 
found  in  them  to  the  situation  and  wants  of  man  are  just 
as  much  proofs  of  design,  as  the  m^St  curious  and  useful 
contrivances  in  our  animal  frame.  If  they  are  found  to  work 
together,  so  that  the  ends  toward  which  one  is  impelled  by  them 
severally  do  not  conflict,  but  harmonize,  and  the  general  result 
is  conduct  which  tends  to  the  good  both  of  the  individual  and 
the  race,  the  arrangement  certainly  shows  the  wisdom  and 
benevolence  of  the  Designer  even  more  clearly  than  these  are 
seen  in  the  material  universe.  If  a  finer  analysis  should  shqsv 
that  some  of  the  feelings  in  question  are  not  original,  but  ac- 
quired, —  that  is,  that  they  are  not  implanted  at  first  in  the 
infant  mind,  but  necessarily  spring  up  afterwards,  under  the  influ- 
ences to  which  that  mind  is  always  exposed,  —  this  will  make  no 
difference  as  to  the  force  or  relevancy  of  the  argument.  It  is 
enough  for  our  purpose,  that  the  affection  is  necessarily  devel- 
oped sooner  or  later,  and  that  it  tends  to  good.  It  may  be,  for 
instance,  th^t  many  of  the  kindly  sentiments  which  are  usually 
distinguished  by  different  names  spring  from  the  same  root,  and 
are,  in  truth,  but  various  forms  of  one  primitive  feehng ;  their 
subsequent  divergence  may  be  accounted  for  by  the  association 
of  ideas,  or  that  law  of  our  nature  w^hich  often  transfers  attach- 


THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAX.  271 

ment  from  the  end  to  the  means.  As  the  miser  loves  gold  at 
first  onlv  for  the  pleasures  that  it  will  purchase,  but  finally  for 
its  own  sake,  so  it  may  be,  that  friendship  is  but  the  transfer  to 
persons  of  the  feelings  of  complacency  and  enjo}Tnent  first 
produced  by  the  sense  of  mutual  obligation,  and  by  the  wish  for 
their  recurrence.  Thus  there  may  be  a  selfish  element  in  the 
emotion  at  first ;  but  it  puiifies  itself  by  indulgence  and  habit, 
and  is  not  perfected  till  it  amounts  to  self-sacrifice. 

It  is  obvious  enough,  that  tfie  affections  of  kindred,  especially 
those  of  parent  and  child,  are  chiefly  useful  for  the  preservation 
of  the  race  :  and  this  we  may  suppose  to  be  the  leading  purpose 
of  their  creation.  But  observe,  fm'ther,  how  they  cooperate  with 
the  social  feeling,  and  first  make  society  possible,  by  affording  a 
type  of  it  in  the  fanuly.  Submission  to  paternal  authority 
paves  the  way  for  obedience  to  a  political  head ;  and  the  love  of 
kindred  needs  but  little  expansion  to  become  a  love  of  country. 
Since  the  affections  weaken  as  they  expand,  the  most  general 
of  all.  philanthropy  or  universal  henevolence,  is  quickened  and 
made  intense  by  sympathy^  a  principle- which  is  as  unquestion- 
ably primitive  or  innate  as  the  love  of  offspring,  and  is  so  uni- 
versal and  salutary'  in  its  operation,]  that  an  eminent  moraUst 
has  taken  it  to  be  the  foundadon  of  our  ethical  nature,  or  the 
fountain  of  all  the  virtues.  ^It  is  the  proper  antagonisT^' cbr^ 
rective  of  selfishness,  as  under  its  impulse  we  instinctively  make 
the  sorrows  and  pleasures  of  others  our  own,  and  in  turn  feel 
our  own  joys  heightened,  and  sufferings  diminished,  through  the 
consciousness  that  they  are  shared  by  our  neighbors.  The 
endowment  of  the  human  mind  with  this  principle  alone,  peculiar 
and  striking  as  its  effects  are  seen  to  be  when  we  reflect  upon 
them,  seems  to  me  as  plain  an  indication  of  the  benevolence  of 
the  Deity,  and  of  his  will  that  men  should  cultivate  kindness  and 
affection  for  each  other,  as  the  exphcit  enunciation  of  the  same 
truths  in  Scripture.  "^ 

Respective  claims  of  the  different  affections.  —  All  the  rela- 
tions in  which  we  stand  to  our  fellow-beings  have  separate 
affections  corresponding  to  them ;  and  our  sense  of  the  duties 
which  are  incumbent  upon  us  in  each  case,  is  developed  and 


272  THE    ACTIVE    POWERS    OF  JklAN. 

r  - 

confirmed  by  tliis  association.  |    The  strength  of  the  affection  may     yc^ 
("gencraUxj  he  taken  as  a  safe  measure  of  the  duty.     Parental  love  {j^  ,^ 
is   stronger  than  friendship  ;  sympathy  with  distress  is  more  V^  ^ 
vivid  than  sympathy  with  enjoyment;  the  love  of  family  is  more    ^ 
powerful  than  the  love  of  country  ;  and  the  love  of  country,  again, 
is  more  urgent  than  universal  benevolence.  \  Few  will  deny,  that 
the  scale  of  duties  exactly  correspond^o  this  gradation;  so 
that,  even  if  reason  did  not  operate  to  show  the  comparative 
utility  of  the  performance  of  these  duties,  we  should  have  what 
might  be  called  an  instinctive  appreciation  of  their  relative  im- 
portance.    Theorists,  it  is  true,  have  often  tried  to  invert  this 
natural  order  of  the  virtues ;  but,  as  might  be  expected,  with 
small   success.     Thus,  circumstances   led  the  ancients  to  ex- 

^aggerate  the   merits  of  patriotism;  and  even  Plato  held  the 
opinion,  that  the  indulgence  of  the  domestic  affections  unfitted 
men  for  the  discharge  of  their  political  duties ;  he  went  so  far 
^s  to  propose,  on  this  account,  that  children  should  be  separated     . 
from  their  parents  immediately  after  bu'th,  and  brought  up  at 
the  public   expense.  (The  enthusiasm   of  modern  limeS"^asl 
/taiken  a  somewhat  different  course ;  universal  philanthropy  is  \  ^ 
'now  the  fashionable  virtue,  and  it  is  preached  up  to  an  extent 
I  that  throws  all  the  most  private  affections  into  the  shade,  even 
J  if  it  does  not  menace  their  extinction.     But  the  duties  which  lie 
within  the  narrowest  circle  are   most  frequent  in  their  recur^ 
rence,  and  so  tend  to  keep  up  the  habit  of  virtue ;  while  the  | 
benevolent  feeling  which  can  take  in  no  less  an  object  than  the  1 
whole  human  race,  for  want  of  striking  occasions  on  which  to  \ 
manifest  itself,  is  apt  to  be  wasted  in  speculation  and  magnificent   [ 
professions.^   There  is  deep  meaning  in  the  language  of  our 
Saviour,  \vnen  he  inculcates  love  to  all  mankind  under  the  figure 

ly    of  love  to  our  neighbor. 

Lofty  and  abstract  principles  not  needed  for  every-day  guid- 
ance. —  Be  not  always  eager,  then,  to  direct  your  course  only  by 
some  lofty,  abstract,  and  distant  principles,  to  the  disregard  of 
the  humbler  and  more  practical  rules  of  morals  which  shine 
directly  around  and  near  our  daily  life.  This  is  the  folly  of 
attempting  to  steer  always  by  the  stars,  though  the  coast  be 


THE   ACTIVE    POWERS    OF    MAN.  273 

near  at  band,  and  the  low,  familiar  beacons  on  it,  if  we  will  onlj 
heed  them,  will  guide  us  safely  into  port.  And  do  not,  if  you 
get  into  difficulty  by  acting  in  this  manner,  lay  all  the  blame 
upon  the  stars ;  they  shine  in  their  proper  places,  but  we  have 
no  instruments  nice  enough  to  take  their  precise  bearings,  where 
a  very  slight  error  might  lead  to  fatal  -consequences.  High 
principles  are  always  right ;  but  we  make  egregious  mistakes  in 
attempting  to  act  upon  them  on  slight  and  familiar  occasions, 
when  there  are  less  ambitious,  but  safer,  rules  of  guidance  at 
hand,  if  we  will  only  heed  them.  These  lofty  maxims  come 
into  play  but  seldom,  —  on  great  occasions ;  and  even  then,  they 
serve  only  as  comprehensive  precepts  for  the  general  formation 
of  our  hearts  and  characters,  and  not  as  precise  rides  of  con- 
*duct,  that  are  serviceable  on  particular  emergencies.  We  look 
to  the  stars  for  pilotage  when  we  are  in  the  midst  of  a  broad 
and  trackless  ocean,  and  no  landmarks  are  in  sight ;  and  they 
show  us  only  the  general  direction  in  which  we  ought  to  steer. 
When  the  breakers  are  close  around  us,  it  is  no  time  to  look 
aloft.  Goethe  gives  good  advice :  —  If  perplexed  by  the  many 
calls  that  are  made  upon  us,  and  by  conflicting  rules  of  life,  let 
us  always  do  first  the  nearest  duty  ;  when  this  is  finished,  the 
others  will  already  have  become  clearer. 

The  affections  indicate  their  objects.  —  The  affections,  like  the 
desires,  create  a  feeling  of  uneasiness  and  discontent  in  the 
absence  of  their  respective  objects,  and  prompt  to  exertion  for 
the  supply  of  the  deficiency.  The  love  of  friends  is  a  craving 
which  makes  itself  more  or  less  distinctly  known  according  to 
the  experience  which  we  have  had  of  companionship.  "  As 
the  lamb,"  says  an  able  writer,  "  when  it  strikes  with  the  fore- 
head while  yet  unarmed,  proves  that  it  is  not  its  weapons  which 
determine  its  instincts,  but  that  it  has  preexistent  instincts  suited 
to  its  weapons,  so,  when  we  see  an  animal  deprived  of  the  sight 
of  its  fellows  chng  to  a  stranger,  or  disarm  by  its  caresses  the 
rage  of  an  enemy,  we  perceive  the  workings  of  a  social  instinct, 
not  only  not  superinduced  by  external  circumstances,  but  mani- 
festing itself  in  spite  of  circumstances  which  are  adverse  to  its 
operation.     The  same  remark  may  be  extended  to  man ;  when 


274  THE   ACTIVE   POWERS    OF   MAN. 

in  solitude  be  languishes,  and,  by  making  companions  of  tbe 
lower  animals,  or  by  attaching  himself  to  inanimate  objects, 
strives  to  fill  up  the  void  of  which  he  is  conscious."  The  feel- 
ing is  hlind,  indeed ;  instinct  in  animals,  and  reason  in  man, 
alone  can  supply  the  means  of  satisfying  the  want ;  Jmt  we 
know  that  there  is  a  tvant,  and  that  the  uneasiness  jv^ill  remain 
till  it  is  gratified. 

A  still  more  striking  instance  of  this  truth  may  be  found  in 
the  religious  sentiment,  to  which  I  have  already  often  alluded. 
Man  is  created  with  a  capacity  and  inclination  for  worship,  with 
a  deep  feeling  of  veneration,  which  finds  no  appropriate  object 
on  which  to  expend  itself  among  the  persons  and  things  with 
whom  he  is  associated  on  earth,  but  constantly  seeks  for  such 
an  object,  and  usually  finds  it,  in  the  conception  of  some  spiritual 
existence  higher  and  holier  than  any  created  being.  From  this 
fact  alone  can  we  explain  the  endless  variety  of  religious  sys- 
tems which  have  obtained  in  the  world,  no  nation  or  race  hav- 
ing ever  been  discovered^  which  had  no  form  of  religious  wor- 
ship. The  savage  makes  his  idol  of  a  block  or  stone.  The 
half-enlightened  barbarian  finds  a  Divinity  all  around  him,  and 
peoples  the  mountains,  the  streams,  and  the  forests  with  their 
attendant  deities.  When  more  cultivated,  his  thirst  for  knowl- 
edge leads  him  to  study  the  heavens,  and  the  sun,  moon,  and 
stars  become  his  gods.  Finally,  whether  as  the  last  triumph  of 
the  unaided  intellect  or  by  special  revelation,  the  sublime  doc- 
trine of  monotheism  is  preached  to  the  world,  and  calls  forth  the 
purest  form  and  highest  degree  of  reverence  of  which  the 
human  heart  is  capable. 


THE   NATURE    OF    CONSCIENCE.  275 


CHAPTER     III. 

THE  NATURE  AND  FUNCTIONS  OF  CONSCIENCE. 

Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  I  endeavored  to  show,  in  the 
last  chapter,  from  a  comparison  of  the  human  faculties  with  those 
of  the  brutes,  that  discipline^  or  self-developmenij  is  the  great 
end  of  our  existence  upon  earth ;  mere  enjoyment,  or  the  con- 
scious gratification  of  desire,  being  only  a  secondary  aim.  The 
prevalence  of  laiv,  or  the  uniformity  of  causation,  in  the  mate- 
rial universe,  is  not  intended  merely  to  uphold  and  continue  this 
universe,  —  an  object  which  might  be  accomplished  far  more 
easily  and  directly,  —  but  to  operate  as  a  means  for  this  educa- 
tion of  man ;  that  is,  to  guide  the  conduct  of  a  being  Avho  is  not, 
like  the  brutes,  conducted  blindfold  and  unconsciously  to  the 
performance  of  every  work  that  is  necessary  for  the  continua- 
tion and  welfare  of  his  species,  but  is  rendered  capable,  through 
freewill,  judgment,  and  forethought,  of  acting  for  himself  An 
examination  of  the  lower  motive  powers  of  the  human  mind  — 
the  appetites,  affections,  and  desires,  —  was  intended  to  prove 
that  they  are  mere  blind  impulses,  or  springs  of  activity,  differ- 
ing from  each  other  in  strength,  but  having  regard  only  to  their 
own  immediate  gratification  ;  the  objects  of  them  being  sought 
invariably  as  ends,  not  as  means.  So  far  as  man  is  under  their 
guidance,  he  has  no  superiority  over  the  other  orders  of  the 
animal  creation.  Prudence,  or  self-love^-is  the  first  element  of 
his  intellectual  being ;  the  office  of  this  faculty  is  to  restrain 
the  jirimitive  impulses  and  desires,  to  ascertain  the  relative  im- 
portance of  the  ends  towards  which  they  are  directed,  and  thus 
to  subject  the  lower  to  the  higher,  and  to  make  all  of  them  con- 
duce to  the  working  out  of  that  scheme  of  happiness,  or  general 
well-being,  which  has  been  devised  by  the  intellect. 

Man  as  a  rational  and  prudent  being.  —  Here,  then,  man  first 
appears  in  his  distinctive  character  as  a  rational  being.     He  is 


27fi  THE    NATURE    OF    CONSCIENCE. 

not  yet  a  moral  one.  His  own  happiness  is  the  highest  end 
that  is  yet  in  view,  and  all  things  are  judged  or  estimated  by 
their  relative  fitness  to  promote  this  single  object.  They  are 
compared  with  each  other,  not  as^oqd  or  evil,  hut  as  exjpedient 
or  injurious.  The  desires  and  affections  are  not  considered  in 
themselves,  or  with  reference  to  their  inherent  character,  but 
are  viewed  only  indirectly,  through  the  outward  consequences 
which  will  result  from  their  indulo;ence.  There  is  room  enouo-h 
for  the  exercise  of  freewill,  even  if  we  look  only  to  these  exter- 
nal results.  The  immediate  impulse,  or  passion  of  the  moment, 
which  always  determines  the  action  of  the  brute,  is  checked  or 
restrained  by  man,  till  he  can  see  the  probable  effect  of  giving 
way  to  it.  At  least,  this  is  what  he  is  capable  of  doing,  and 
what  he  must  do,  if  he  would  exercise  those  prerogatives  of  hig 
nature  through  which  alone  he  is  placed  at  the  head  of  the  ani- 
mal creation. 

Man  as  a  moral  being,  —  But  is  this  all  ?  Have  we  com- 
pleted the  description  of  human  nature,  when  man  is  made  to 
appear  as  a  being  endowed  with  reason  and  foresight,  free  to 
act,  and  able  to  learn  through  experience  what  actions  will  most 
effectually  promote  his  present  and  future  -happiness?  The 
consciousness  of  every  individual  will  answer,  that  it  is  not  all ; 
—  that  there  is  an  element  of  our  nature,  which  excels  prudence^ 
more  than  prudence  excels  animal  instinct  or  passion.  jThis 
principle  extends  its  jurisdiction  over  our  whole  being,  claim- 
ing authority  to  control  and  subdue  the  promptings  of  self-love 
.as  absolutely  as  it  overrules  the  appetites  and  desires.  By  the 
side  oij)rudence,  or  above  it,  it  ^introduces  the  novel  conception 
of  duty^'OY  moral  obligation ;  over  personal  happiness,  as  an  ob- 
ject of  effort  and  a  guide  to  action,  it  places  the  idea  of  absolute 
right.\  Putting  aside  the  consideration  of  external  things,  it 
erects  its  throne  in  the  soul  of  man,  and  judges,  not  the  outward? 
act,  but  the  motwe^andijiten^ipns  which  lead  to  it  and  constitute 
its  moral  character.  Dealing  thus  exclusively  with  conceptions 
of  the  intellect,  or  pure  ideas,  all  contingency  or  uncertainty  dis- 
appears from  its  decisions,  and  the  sentence  which  it  pro- 
nounces is  as  unchangeable  as  the  purposes  of  the  Almighty. 


THE    NATURE    OF    CONSCIENCE.  277 

It  supplies  the  medium  and  the  standard  of  judgment  through 
which  we  regard  our  own  conduct  and  that  of  our  fellow-beings, 
and  form  our  notions  of  the  attributes  of  God.  Here,  then,  is 
the  proper  foundation  of  Natural  Religion.  Natural  Theology, 
which  is  the  product  of  the  intellect,  makes  us  acquainted  with 
the  being  and  the  natural  attributes  of  the  Deity,  such  as  his 
infinite  duration,  power,  and  wisdom,  merely  as  facts  of  science, 
or  truths  for  contemplation.  Natural  Religion,  proceeding  from 
conscience,  makes  known  to  us  his  moral  nature,  his  purposes 
and  will,  and  so  terminates,  not  in  knowledge,  hut  in  action. 

It  is  difficult  to  explain  the  nature  and  functions  of  conscience, 
without  seemiqg  to  dwell  on  mere  truisms,  or  to  adopt  an  ab- 
struse and  technical  phraseology,  which  will  tend  rather  to 
confuse  than  to  rectify  our  notions  of  the  subject.  The  terms 
expressive  of  moral  distinctions,  and  of  our  feelings  in  regard  to 
them,  have  so  passed  into  common  use  as  an  integral  part  of  all 
languages,  and  we  have  so  frequent  occasion  for  them  both  in 
writing  and  conversation,  that  it  is  not  an  easy  task  to  call 
attention  to  the  fundamental  facts  in  our  constitution  which 
they  signify,  or  to  imagine  what  the  nature  of  man  would  be,  or 
how  it  would  appear,  if  it  Avere  suddenly  dejDrived  of  the  moral 
faculty  altogether,  so  that  these  words  and  phrases  should  no 
longer  convey  any  intelligible  meaning.  Yet  this  is  what  is 
necessary  to  be  done,  before  we  can  gain  a  clear  conception  of 
the  office  of  conscience,  or  of  the  nature  of  the  addition  which  it 
makes  to  the  merely  animal  and  the  merely  intellectual  part  of 
our  being.  To  analyze,  or  otherwise  describe,  the  id<;i-  of  right 
2indi  wrong,  is  quite  as  difficult  as  to  furnish  correct  and  lucid 
definitions  of  the  jjarticles,  or  connecting  links  of  speech,  which 
we  learn  to  apply,  through  long  experience,  with  great  precis- 
ion, though  their  very  commonness  makes  it  hard  to  show  what 
is  their  exact  meaning.  The  particles  themselves  enter  into 
every  definition  we  can  form  of  them.  So  tve  cannot  show  what 
the  dictates  of  conscience  are,  without  presupposing  that  every  one 
has  a  conscience,  and  can  listen  to  its  voice.  My  object  is,  to 
show  the  importance  and  the  distinctive  character  of  this  ethi- 
cal  element  in   the  human  constitution  ;  that;it  is  not  blended 

24 


278  THE  NATURE  OF  CONSCIENCE. 

with,  or  made  up  from,  our  other  faculties,  but  is  original  and 
peculiar  ;  that  it  makes  a  large  addition  to  the  stock  of  our  ideas 
derived  from  other  sources,  and  in  fact  modifies  and  controls 
the  whole  nature  of  man^- 

Increase  of  knowledge  by  the  addition  of  a  new  sense.  —  It  is 
not  easy,  perhaps,  to  imagine  how  our  perceptions  of  external 
objects  would  be  affected,  if  the  number  of  the  senses  were  sud- 
denly increased,  and,  through  the  addition  of  another  organ,  we 
were  enabled  to  look  into  the  internal  constitution  of  things,  of 
which  we  have  now  only  a  superficial  knowledge.  We  may 
form  some  idea,  however,  of  the  change  that  would  thus  be  pro- 
duced, by  considering  the  case  of  a  person  bprn  blind,  and 
remaining  so  for  many  years.  To  him,  the  word  coZgt  has  ab- 
solutely no  meaning,  and  no  combination  of  words,  no  illustra- 
tions drawn  from  the  ideas  furnished  by  the  other  senses,  could 
ever  give  him  even  the  remotest  conception  of  what  the  word 
signifies.  It  is  said,  that  such  a  person,  being  once  asked  what 
idea  he  had  of  an  object  colored  red,  answered,  that  he  thought 
it  must  resemble  the  sound  of  a  trumpet ;  and  this  reply,  ex- 
travagant as  it  seems,  really  eomes  as  near  the  truth  as  any 
which  the  most  gifted  intellect,  under  such  circumstances,  ever 
has  given,  or  ever  can  give.  Now  suppose,  that  from  a  human 
being  who  has  long  labored  under  this  awful  privation,  the  veil 
should  in  one  moment  be  removed,  that  the  scales  should  fall 
from  his  eyes,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  he  should  be  able 
to  see.  For  the  first  time,  upon  his  aching  and  astonished  sense, 
bursts  the  glorious  prospect  of  this  green  earth,  its  hills,  plains, 
■woods,  and  waters,  with  their  thousand  hues,  and,  bending  over 
all,  the  blue  arch  of  heaven,  relieved  only  by  vast  folds  of  white 
cloud,  lit  up  by  the  intolerable  splendor  of  a  noonday  sun,  or,  at 
eve,  "  thick  inlaid  with  patines  of  bright  gold."  The  rush  of 
overwhelming  sensations  that  would  oppress  and  burden  his 
spirit  under  such  circumstances,  could  be  adequately  described 
only  in  the  poet's  inspired  language  :  — 

"  He  looked ; 
Ocean  and  earth,  the  solid  frame  of  earth. 
And  ocean's  liquid  mass  beneath  him  lay. 


THE   NATURE    OF    CONSCIENCE.  279 

In  gladness  and  deep  joy Sound  needed  none, 

Nor  any  voice  of  joy ;  his  spirit  drank 
The  spectacle  ;  sensation,  soul,  and  form 

All  melted  into  him In  such  high  hour 

Of  visitation  from  the  living  God, 
Thought  was  not ;  in  enjoyment  it  expired." 

The  addition  to  his  stock  of  knowledge  would  not  cease  with 
the  first  view  of  this  grand  spectacle,  or  be  limited  to  ideas  of 
color  alone.  How  long,  it  has  been  asked,  would  it  take,  for  a 
person  born  blind ,  to  acquire,  by  the  unaided  sense  of  touch,  a 
complete  idea  of  the  front  of  a  large  Gothic  cathedral,  with  its 
profusion  of  ornament  and  minuteness  of  tracery  ?  The  power 
of  vision  would  increase  a  thousand-fold  the  aptitude  of  this 
other  sense  to  convey  the  information  that  is  really  peculiar  to 
it,  though  it  is  now  so  quickly  suggested  by  visual  sensations, 
that  it  seems  to  us  attributable  to  the  eye  alone.  Strictly  speak- 
ing, as  I  explained  in  a  former  chapter,  we  see  nothing  but 
color ;  the  ideas  of  distance,  magnitude,  and  shape,  w^hich  seem 
to  be  derived  immediately  from  sight,  being  in  truth  first  com- 
municated to  us  through  touch,  or  what  has  been  called  the 
muscular  sense,  and  are  afterwards  suggested  to  the  eye  through 
the  varieties  of  tint,  of  light  and  shade,  with  which  they  are 
found  to  be  invariably  associated.  Then,  as  the  education  of 
the  newly  acquired  sense  was  gradually  perfected,  it  would 
become  the  constantly  enlarging  inlet  of  new  ideas,  till  all  the 
knowledge  previously  acquired  from  other  sources  should  seem 
as  nothing,  when  compared  with  the  flood  of  information  thus 
swiftly,  and  without  elFort,  conveyed  to  the  mind  by  a  new  organ 
of  perception.  It  will  hardly  be  deemed  too  fanciful  to  add, 
that  if,  in  a  future  state  of  being,  our  power  of  acquiring 
knowledge  is  to  be  immeasurably  increased,  we  can  imagine  no 
more  direct  mode  of  effecting  this  end,  than  by  the  endowment 
of  the  soul  with  new  organs  of  sense  ;  or  rather,  by  stripping  it 
entirely  of  the  opaque  and  perishable  covering  of  clay  that  now 
limits  its  perceptions  and  veils  its  glories,  and  in  which  the 
senses  that  we  now  possess  are  but  narrow  loopholes,  through 
which  we  catch  faint  glimpses  of  the  universe  that  God  has 
made. 


280  THE  NATURE  OF  COXSCTENCE. 

The  addition  of  conscience  equivcdent  to  the  creation  of  a  new 
sense.  —  To  apply  this  illustration  to  the  subject  before  us,  I 
say  that  the  situation  of  the  intellect  which  had  never  known 
the  eye  for  its  minister,  or  as  an  inlet  of  knowledge,  would  be 
but  a  faint  parallel  of  the  condition  of  the  soul,  or  the  whole 
man,  on  whom  the  light  of  conscience  never  beamed,  and  who, 
consequently,  has  no  moral  ideas  whatever,  but  is  as  ignorant 
of  the  meaning  of  iv'ght  and  wrong,  duty  and  ohligation,  as  the 
man  born  blind  is  of  color.  TheJdeas^^cpnceptipnSj  or-feeliiigs, 
—  call  them  what  you  may,  —  which  come  to  us  through_Jhis 
source,  are  as  'peculiar  and  distinctive,  as  impossible  to  be^e- 
rived  from  any  other  fountain  than  that  which  actually  does 
furnish  them,  as  are  the  sensations  of  vision.  They  enter  into 
and  influence  all  our  deliberations ;  they  mould  our  judgments 
of  our  fellow-beings  and  of  ourselves  ;  they  furnish  a  new  guide 
to  conduct ;  they  lend  a  new  aspect  to  life.  I  do  not  speak 
now  only  of  those  over  whose  actions  and  thoughts  they  habit- 
ually exercise  a  strong  influence.  I  do  not  speak  only  of  good 
men,  or  of  any  class  of  men,  as  distinguished  from  others ;  I 
speak  of  all  human  beings,  of  man  himself,  and  of  that  which 
makes  him  what  he  is,  —  a  man,  and  not  a  brute.  Human 
nature  is  essentially  moral,  and  we  can  no  more  put  off,  or  lay 
aside,  even  for  a  time,  this  attribute  of  our  being,  than  we  can 
discard  reason  and  take  instinct  in  its  place.  There  are  im- 
moral naen,  who  "hear  thevoice  of  conscience,  but  heed  it  not; 
but  there  is  no  such  thing  as  an  ^^?^moral  man,  to  whom  con- 
science speaks  not  at  all.  At  any  rate,  no  such  being  can  be 
found  out  of  a  madhouse  ;  and  even  there,  what  we  see  is  not 
so  much  the  absolute  privation  of  the  rational  and  moral  facul- 
ties, as  the  awful  spectacle  of  reason  and  conscience  alike  in 
ruins. 

Instances  of  ideas  and  distinctions  perceived  hy  conscience 
alone.  —  Let  me  try  to  illustrate  this  point ;  though,  for  the 
reason  already  mentioned,  it  is  hard  to  put  it  in  a  clear  light  for 
those  who  are  not  accustomed  to  abstractions,  without  seeming 
to  dwell  upon  facts  which  are  too  obvious  for  notice.  Suppose, 
then,  that  two  persons,  in  whom  w^e  are    equally   interested, 


THE    NATURE    OF    CONSCIENCE.  281 

receive  each  an  injury  of  the  same  magnitude,  and  attended 
with  precisely  similar  results ;  let  the  two  cases,  in  fine,  be  en- 
tirely parallel,  except  in  this  single  particular,  that  in  the  one, 
the  injury  done  was  wilful,  wanton,  and  unprovoked,  while  in 
the  other,  it  was  wholly  accidental.  Observe  that  the  supposed 
distinction  between  the  two  cases  7^ests  upon  no  outward  fact, 
—  upon  nothing  visible  to  sense,  but  upon  the  secret  motives 
and  intentions  of  the  authors  of  the  deed,  —  upon  what  was 
passing  in  their  minds  before  the  blows  were  struck.  Yet  all 
mankind  acknowledge  this  difference  to  be  real  and  vitally  im- 
portant ;  they  allow  it  to  exercise  entire  control  over  their 
judgment  of  the  two  transactions,  over  the  opinions  which  they 
form  and  express  of  them,  and  over  their  subsequent  feehngs 
towards  the  agents  of  the  mischief.  In  every  language  that  is 
spoken  upon  the  earth,  there  are  words  to  express  the  difference 
between  simple  harm  and  positive  ivrong.  We  can  easily  im- 
agine a  person  wdcked  and  brutal  enough  to  commit  the  injury 
in  the  causeless  manner  first  mentioned;  but  we  cannot  imagine 
any  human  being  either  bad  or  stupid  enough  to  be  affected  in 
precisely  the  same  manner  in  the  two  cases,  and  to  see  only 
equal  cause  for  blame  and  praise  in  them.  An  animal  grazing 
in  the  field  might  turn  an  equally  careless  eye  upon  the  out- 
ward tokens  of  the  harm  done  in  both  instances ;  and  if  we 
could  suppose  its  instinct  to  be  so  far  supplanted  by  reason  that 
it  could  know  the  one  deed  to  be  intentional,  and  the  other  acci- 
dental, we  should  still  believe  that  it  would  retain  its  indif- 
ference, unless,  by  a  further  change  in  its  nature,  the  gift  of 
moral,  should  be  added  to  that  of  intellectual  perception.  My 
point  is,  that!  conscience  differs  as  widely  from  reason^  as  rea- 
son does  from  instinct.   \ 

We  may  take  another  instance  from  the  affection  of  gei^^al 
hpnp.vohncp..  or  the  desire  of  doing  good  to  mankind.  This  is  a 
primitive  or  natural  impulse,  somewhat  strengthened  by  sym- 
pathy, which  seeks  its  own  end  without  regard  to  any  ulterior 
gratification,  and,  when  pure  and  unmixed,  without  reference 
to  any  higher  law  or  motive.  The  private  relations  between 
the  two  parties,  the  giver  and  receiver  of  the  benefit,  do  not 

24* 


282  THE  NATURE  OF  CONSCIENCE. 

increase  or  diminish  the  addition  that  is  made  to  the  stock  of 
human  happiness.  AVe  sympathize  involmitarily  with  happi- 
ness conferred ;  we  rejoice  at  the  opening  of  new  avenues  to 
human  enjoyment.  Now,  suppose  that  the  means  of  pleasure 
thus  bestowed  were  not  the  rightful  property  of  the  donor,  that 
they  were  not  his  to  give.  He  had  them  only  in  trust  from  one 
to  whom  they  properly  belonged,  and  who  would  very  certainly 
have  made  a  bad  use  of  them,  —  have  devoted  them  only  to 
selfish  purposes,  or  perhaps  to  doing  evil  instead  of  good  to  his 
fellow-men,  if  they  had  remained  in  his  possession.  No  matter ; 
justice  requires  that  they  should  have  been  restored  to  him,  to 
be  squandered  or  misused  as  he  saw  fit.  Here,  then,  the  feel- 
ings of  justice  and  benevolence  are  in  conflict ;  and  what  human 
being  hesitates  to  admit  that  the  claims  of  the  former  are  supe- 
rior ?  I  have  intentionally  taken  an  instance  which  proves  that 
mere  pJdlanthropy,  or  the  desire  of  promoting  the  happiness  of 
others,  though  it  is  the  most  estimable  of  the  affections,  is  7iQt 
the  whole  duty  of  man  ;  and,  consequently,  that  the  affections 
alone,  being  impulsive  and  irrational  in  their  nature,  are  an 
insufficient  guide  to  conduct.  There  are  many,  perhaps,  who, 
in  the  case  supposed,  would  sacrifice  justice  to  benevolence ; 
but  they  would  still  be  conscious  —  if  not  at  the  moment,  at  any 
rate,  after  time  had  come  for  reflection  —  that  they  had  acted 
wrong. 

Conscience  the  sole  voucher  of  its  own  authority.  —  What  is 
this  sentiment  or  idea  of  moral  wrong,  which  arises  not  merely 
in  the  two  instances  I  have  mentioned,  but  so  frequently  in 
every  healthy  mind  as  to  influence  our  conduct  in  all  the  rela- 
tions of  life?  It  surely  is  not  conveyed  to  us  through  the 
senses  ;  nor  is  it  the  offspring  of  the  affections  or  desires,  the 
impulsive  part  of  our  nature,  to  which  it  is  frequently  set  in 
opposition.  Is  it  the  product  of  intellect,  then  ?  The  office  of 
this  faculty,  we  know,  is  to  discover  truth,  to  discern  the  fitness 
of  means  to  ends,  to  perceive  the  relation  of  premises  to  conclu- 
sions. It  has  nothing  to  do  with  action,  but  is  limited  entirely 
to  contemplation.  In  the  first  case  mentioned,  reason  might 
inform  us  of  the  fact,  that  the  one  deed  was  purposed,  and  the 


THE   NATURE    OF    CONSCIENCE.  283 


other  casual ;  this  truth  would  be  learned  by  inference  from 
certain  outward  circumstances  that  enable  us  to  judge  of  the 
intentions  of  the  parties.  The  intellect  stops  here  ;  the  judg- 
ment subsequently  passed,  the  idea  of  guilt  or  innocence  that 
supervenes,  is  not  related  to  the  knowledge  thus  obtained,  as  an 
inference  is  to  its  premises,  or  as  an  end  to  means  employed. 
Why  is  intentional  liarm  done  to  a  fellow-being  a  .wrong  ?  Wc 
cannot  tell.  Why  are  the  claims  of  justice  superior  to  thofo 
of  benevolence?  We  cannot  tell.  But  we  know  that  it  is 
so,  not  only  in  the  judgment  of  men,  but  in  the  councils  of 
Ood. 

And  further,  the  idesi  of  retribution  or  punishment  arises  after 
that  of  acknowledged  wrong,  even  when  the  injured  person  is 
beyond  the  reach  of  reparation,  and  when  we  are  not  looking  to 
the  reformation  of  the  guilty.  Human  legislation,  indeed,  is 
properly  confined  to  these  two  ends,  and  to  the  protection  ot" 
society.  Human  laws  aim  to  provide  for  the  redress  of  injurie/, 
the  reformation  of  the  criminal,  and  the  welfare  of  all  classes  ; 
but  they  seek  to  accomplish  these  ends  at  the  expense  of  the 
offender.  It  is  just,  it  is  right,  that  the  wrongdoer  should  suf- 
fer :  —  we  admit  this  principle  intuitively,  though  it  is  directly 
opposed  to  the  dictates  of  sympathy  and  natural  benevolence, 
which  aim  to  prevent  all  suffering.  The  decisions  of  conscience, 
then,  are  authoritative  and  supreme.  It  overlooks  and  controls 
the  lower  motives  to  action,  even  those  which  are  most  amiable 
or  excellent ;  its  voice  is  never  heard  but  in  tones  of  absolute 
command.  "  K  it  had  might,  as  it  has  right,  it  would  govern 
the  world." 

Conscience  infallibh  ivithin  its  proper  sphere.  —  This  brii^i^s  ' 
me  to  the  next  characteristic  of  the  moral  facuUy  in  its  proper 
sphere,  —  the  absolute  certainty  of  its  decisions-  I  say  "  in  its 
proper  sphere,"  because,  as  we  had  occasion  to  remark  in  the 
former  Pacjt,  the  undue  extension  of  the  commands  of  con- 
science beyond  their  proper  subjects,  the  motives  and  intentions 
of  men,  to  the  external  acts  or  occurrences  through  which  those 
intentions  are  manifested,  often  creates  doubts,  and  gives  oppor- 
tunity to  question  its  absolute  veracity.     But  in  its  own  domain, 


284  THE  NATURE  OF  CONSCIENCE. 

in  the  sanctuary  of  the  soul,  where  all  thoughts  and  motives  are 
judged,  it  is  an  undoubted  sovereign.  The  certainty  of  its  de- 
cisions is  like  that  which  belongs  to  the  convictions  of  the  under- 
standing in  regard  to  abstract  truth.  Right  and  wrong  are  not 
interchangeothle  even  in  idea ;  we  cannot  imagine,  we  cannot 
even  conceive,  of  any  instance  in  which  the  one  should  be  sub- 
stituted for  the  other.  As  it  is  not  within  the  power  even  of 
Omnipotence  to  reverse  the  abstract  laws  of  number  and  space, 
so  it  is  not  his  to  alter  the  moral  relations  of  thoughts  and  acts, 
and  our  judgments  of  them,  through  which  we  look  up  rever- 
ently to  his  throne,  and  form  oiu*  conceptions  of  infinite  holi- 
ness, justice,  and  truth  personified  in  him.  This  is  only  saying, 
that  it  is  impossible  for  the  Divine  nature  to  act  contrary  to  it- 
self. The  sublime  exclamation  of  Pythagoras,  when  contem- 
plating the  immutable  relations  of  space,  "  God  himself  geome- 
trizes,"  expresses  but  feebly  the  absolute  trust  with  which  the 
soul  reposes  on  those  intuitions  of  eternal  and  necessary  truth, 
which  are  vouchsafed  to  us  as  the  foundations  of  our  moral  and 
intellectual^  being. 

Conscience  contrasted  with  taste  in  respect  to  the  imnrntability 
of  its  decisions.  —  We  may  gain  a  clearer  idea  of  the  infalli- 
bility of  conscience,  by  comparing  it  with  the  other  capacities 
of  our  nature,  with  which,  at  first  sight,  it  seems  most  nearly 
allied.  Take  the  emotions  of  taste,  for  instance.  The  contem- 
plation of  an  exquisite  work  of  art,  or  of  grand  and  striking 
scenery  in  nature,  affects  us  with  a  lively  and  agreeable  feeling, 
which  we  call  the  perception  of  beauty  or  sublimity.  All  men 
are  subject  to  it,  though  in  different  degrees,  depending  on  the 
cultivation  of  the  taste.  But  there  is  nothing  absolute  or  im- 
mutable in  our  ideas  of  the  quahties  which  call  it  forth.  The 
child  is  delighted  with  that  which  appears  to  the  adult  as  gaudy, 
puerile,  or  unnatural.  Nay,  there  is  a  "  want  of  agreement  as 
to  the  presence  and  existence  of  beauty  in  particular  objects 
among  men  whose  oi*ganization  is  perfect,  and  who  are  plainly 
possessed  of  the  faculty,  whatever  it  may  be,  by  which  beauty 
is  discerned.  One  man  sees  it  perpetually,  where  to  another  it 
is  quite  invisible,  or  even  where  its  reverse  seems  to  be  con- 


THE   NATURE    OP    CONSCIENCE.  285 

spicuous.  Nor  is  this  owing  to  the  insensibility  of  either  of  the 
parties  ;  for  the  same  contrariety  exists  where  both  are  keenly 
alive  to  the  influences  of  the  beauty  they  respectively  discern. 
The  gardens,  the  furniture,  the  dress,  which  appeared  beautiful 
in  the  eyes  of  our  grandfathers,  are  odious  and  ridiculous  in 
ours.  Nay,  the  dilFerence  of  rank,  education,  or  employments, 
gives  rise  to  the  same  diversity  of  sensation."  And  even  if  all 
men  could  be  brought  to  unanimity  upon  this  point,  we  could 
stiU  conceive  of  such  an  alteration  in  their  capacity  of  discerning 
beauty,  that  what  is  now  most  pleasing  to  them  should  become 
disagreeable,  and  the  reverse.  In  fine,  the  beauty  or  sublimity 
which  we  discern  is  in  our  own  minds ;  and  we  do  not  know, 
that  is,  we  cannot  be  sure,  that  there  is  any  thing  corresponding 
to  them  in  the  world  without,  or  in  the  intrinsic  nature  of 
things. 

But  it  is  not  so  with  our  perceptions  of  moral  good  and  evil. 
Try  to  imagine  that  the  relations  of  right  and  wrong  are  re- 
versed, —  that  it  is  just  to  deceive,  or  to  withhold  from  another 
his  own,  —  that  it  is  commendable  to  inflict  a  wanton  injury 
upon  a  fellow-being,  —  and  that  falsehood  is  more  praiseworthy 
than  truth.  You  cannot  do  it.  The  principles  which  forbid 
such  a  reversal  of  judgment  are  erected,  whether  you  will  or 
no,  whether  your  conduct  conforms  to  them  or  not,  into  abso- 
lute standards  in  your  own  minds,  to  which  you  refer  every 
motive  and  action  for  approbation  or  censure.  The  ideas  of 
right,  of  duty,  of  moral  obligation,  are  inwrought  with  our  in- 
most being,  and  we  can  no  more  conceive  that  they  are  subjec- 
tive only,  or  without  a  basis  in  the  essential  nature  of  things, 
than  we  can  imagine  the  .annihilation  of  time  and  space.  It  is 
conceivable,  indeed,  though  the  supposition  is  a  violent  one,  that 
the  constitution  of  our  minds  should  be  altered  far  enough  for 
us  to  see  these  things  reversed,  and  to  imagine  that  injustice 
and  falsehood  were  meritorious.  Just  so  we  admit  the  possibil- 
ity of  insanity.  But  we  cannot  admit  that  such  a  change 
would  be  in  the  direction  of  the  truth,  or  that,  when  it  had 
taken  place,  we  should  not  be  laboring  under  a  fatal  error. 
Ri^ht  and  duty^  as  we  now  perceive  them,  are  absolute  concep- 


286  THE  NATURE  OF  CONSCIENCE. 

tions,  and  must  exist  as  they  are,  wholly  irrespective  of  the 
manner  in  wliicli  they  are  viewed  by  different  minds. 

Moral  obliyation   universally  admitted  to   he  supreme. — The 
:  correctness  and  the  unanimity  of  men's  moral  judgments  must 

O     be  clearly  distinguished  from  their  universal  acknowledgment 
of  the  supremacy  of  moral  obligation.     There  is  considerable 
'  diversity  of  opinion  in  the  former  respect,  in  the  estimate  which 
we  may  form  of  the  moral  character  of  certain  actions,  and  es- 
pecially of  the   relative  importance   of  certain  duties ;  though  ^^' 
men's  ideas  on  this  subject  usually  converge,  just  in  proportion 
as  they  become  enlightened,  and  inform  their  minds  by  reflec-  (^ 
tion  and  experience.     Savages   may  deem  it   right  to  plunder  L  j 
and  to  kill ;  the   Spartans  taught  their  children  to  steal ;  the     \ 
ancients  generally  held  that  falsehood  and  deceit  were  justifi- 
able, if  practised  for  the  public  good,  and  not  for  one's  individ- 
ual advantage.     But  none  of  these  doubted  that  the  right,  as 
they  esteemed  it,  was  obligatory ;  they  acknowledged  with  one 
voice,  that  they  were  bound  to  practise  it.     The  words  duty  aijd 
law  had  as  much  meaning  and  force  in  their  ears,  as  they  have 
among  the  most  enlightened  and  most  Christian  communities  of 
our  own  times,  j  It  is  this  sense   of  obligation,  this  recognition 
of  an  act  as  something  wliich  ought  to  be   done,  or  to  be  left 

^  undone,  which  is  the  capital  fact  in  our  moral  being ;  it  is  the 
foundation  and  superstructure  of  our  moral  nature.  It  is  not 
an  idea  furnished  by  the  senses,  or  in  any  way  suggested  by 
sensation.  Men  may  differ  in  applying  this  idea  of  duty ;  they 
may  consider  one  or  another  act  as  binding  upon  them  ;  but 
the/  never  fail  to  recognize  ohligation  somewhere,  to  acknowl- 
edge its  rightful  supremacy,  and  to  distinguish  it  clearly  from 
the  feeling  of  compulsion,  or  restraint.  And  the  instances  even 
of  mistaken  application  of  the  idea  of  duty  are  so  few  and  un- 
important, that  they  may  properly  be  viewed  as  perversions  of 
the  moral  faculty,  rather  than  as  proofs  of  its  original  incapacity 
or  blindness.     Morality,   as  a  general   rule,  needs   not  to  be 

'•.  taught,  but  to  be  guarded  against  the  effects  of  wrong  teaching. 
The  unperverted  conscience  of  a  child  shrinks  from  the  act 
which  its  fanatical  parents  attempt  to  impose  as  a  duty.  / 


THBi  NATURE    OF    CONSCIENCE,  2^7 

I  Attempts  to  account  for  the  supremacy  of  conscience,  \ —  Butler 
and  Mackiiitosli,  Avitli  other  writers  upon  the  theory  of  ethics, 
have  been  much  exercised  in  the  attempt  to  find  a  basis  for  the 
supremacy  of  conscience,  or  a  reason  for  the  despotic  authority 
which  it  claims  over  the  other  principles  and  motives  of  our 
nature.  They  thought  it  necessary  to  justify  the  overruling 
and  despotic  influence,  which  the  moral  faculty  claims  over  the 
whole  man,  but  does  not  always  succeed  in  enforcing,  since  the 
lower  propensities  often  exceed  it  in  strength.  I  have  an  im- 
pulse, it  is  true,  to  be  just  to  my  fellow  man ;  but  I  have  also  an 
impulse  to  gratify  my  anger,  to  pamper  my  appetites,  to  secui-e 
the  means  of  selfish  enjoyment,  and  even  to  assist  the  unfortu- 
nate with  the  property  which  happens  to  be  in  my  hands,  though 
it  really  belongs  to  another.  These  two  impulses  often  clash, 
and  the  latter,  which  is  rightfully  the  inferior  one,  frequently 
gets  the  upperhand.  Why,  then,  do  I  believe  that  it  is  rightfully 
inferior,  or  why  do  I  feel  compunction  after  it  has  triumphed  ? 
If  the  sentiment  of  duty  comes  in  conflict  with  a  feeling  so 
powerful  as  self-love,  or  so  amiable  as  benevolence,  though  I 
have  a  distinct  consciousness  that  the  former  ought  to  prevail, 
it  is  well  to  see  if  there  are  any  good  grounds  for  tliis  assumed 
superiority,  and  thus  to  fortify  the  demands  of  conscience  by 
satisfying  the  reason. 

.  Sir  James  Mackintosh!  tTiought  that  he  had  found  a  basis  for^ 

/  .         .  -' — — — — — — ^       _  *^  _  ^  i 

.'this  claim  of  supreme  authority  in  the  fact,  that  conscience  acts\ 

I  directly  upon  the  inner  man^  having  its  throne  within  the  soul,| 
^  while  all  the  other  impulses  and  desires  point  to  outward  objects.^ 
\  The  sense  of  duty  governs  the  motives,  intentions,  and  dispo-i 
'  sitions  of  men.     Hence  it  is  U7iiversal,' or  it  regula,tea  the  whole] 
conduct  and  character ;  while  the  objects  of  the  other  propens|-^j 
ties  Sire  particular,  as  well  as  external.     If  I  yield  to  anger,  for 
instance,  while  all  my  other  passions  and  appetites  are  restrain- 
ed by  the  law  of  conscience,  the  act  of  resentment  is  perceived 
to  violate  the  harmony  of  the  system  ;  it  is  an  act  of  disorder, 
which  will  be  recognized  as  such  when  the  temporary  excitement 
subsides.     Again,  the  objects  of  the  passions  and  desires  being 
external,  I  must  use  means  for  their  gratification.     I  may  not 


288  THE   NATURE    OF    CONSCIEIWE. 

be  able  to  gratify  my  appetite,  because  I  cannot  find  the  means 
of  doing  so.  But  I  can  always  satisfy  my  conscience,  because 
here  no  means  are  needed ;  the  will,  the  intention,  is  enough ; 
duty  asks  nothing  more.  The  failure  pf  the  intention  may  cause 
sorrow,  but  caimot  produce  remorse.  \j  Hence,  conscience  is  in- 
dependent, or  sufficient  unto  itself;  while  the  gratification  of 
every  other  impulse  depends  on  outward  circumstances.!  Pas- 
sion often  defeats  itself ;  the  desires  remain  unsatisfied ;  appe- 
tite cannot  obtain  its  appropriate  food  ;  self-love  not  infrequently 
brings  its  own  punishment.  But  the  sense  of  duty  never  fails, 
and  yielding  to  it  is  at  once  success  and  enjoyment. 

Futility  of  these  atte?npts.  —  These  suggestions  of  an  accom- 
plished moralist,  though  they  illustrate  the  general  subject,  do 
not  seem  to  me  to  throw  much  light  upon  the  particular  inquiry 
in  which  we  are  now  engaged.  It  is  true,  that  conscience  is 
universal  and  independent,  as  well  as  supreme ;  but  it  does  not 
appear  very  clearly  how  the  latter  attribute  is  a  conseqUence 
of  the  two  former  ones.  Though  I  am  independerit,  it  does  not 
follow  that  I  am  entitled  to  command ;  though  not  subject  to 
control,  I  may  not  be  permitted  to  exercise  it.  Moreover,  pru- 
dence, or  an  enlightened  self-love,  seems  to  have  quite  as  wide 
a  domain  as  the  moral  sense ;  it  also  is  universal,  for  it  often 
assumes  to  regulate  the  whole  conduct  and  character,  with  a 
view  only  to  the  individual's  own  future  happiness.  Yet  no 
one  thinks  of  saying  that  it  is  supreme.  I  need  not  dwell  upon 
attempts  less  ingenious  and  plausible  than  that  of  Mackintosh 
to  solve  this  problem,  since  all  occasion  for  them  disappears 
when  we  come  to  examine  the  subject  more  closely. 

The  supremacy  of  conscience  an  ultimate  fact.  —  A  full  analy- 
sis of  our  moral  perceptions  will  show,  if  I  mistake  not,  that  the 
supremacy  of  conscience  is  an  ultimate  fact,  and  that  we  cannot 
go  behind  it,  or  give  a  reason  for  it,  without  reasoning  in  a 
circle,  or  virtually  denying  the  very  point  we  attempt  to  prove. 
To  ask  why  I  ought  to  obey  the  law  of  right,  is,  in  truth,  to  sup- 
pose that  there  is  some  obligation  of  greater  moment  than  the 
sense  of  duty,  some  consideration  which  needs  to  be  alleged  in 
its  support,  and  thus  to  take  for  granted  that  it  is  not  supreme. 


•  THE   NATURE    OP    CONSCIENCE.  289 

We  might  as  well  ask  a  reason  for  our  belief  tliat  every  event 
must  have  a  cause. 

Iforal  taste  explained.  —  Certain  motives  and  actions  are 
made  known  to  me,  and  recognized  by  conscience,  as  good  and 
right.  I  may  simply  contemplate  them  with  complacency  and 
approbation,  just  as  I  am  gratified  with  the  view  of  a  beautiful 
landscape,  or  struck  with  awe  at  the  sight  of  the  starry  heavens, 
A  kind  of  moral  taste  is  thus  formed,  which  is  productive  of  as 
much  enjoyment,  when  properly  cultivated,  as  our  sensibility  to 
the  other  emotions  of  taste,  or  our  capacity  of  receiving  pleas- 
ure through  the  senses.  Though  I  were  incapable  of  action 
myself,  and  therefore  should  never  have  occasion  to  apply  the 
epithets  to  my  own  conduct,  I  should  still  derive  pleasure  from 
awarding  them  to  others,  and  from  reflecting  on  their  deeds 
which  merit  to  be  so  distinguished.  We  see  an  obvious  illustra- 
tion of  this  fact  in  the  |  pleasure  that  we  derive  from  fictitious 
representations  of  life,  which  call  all  our  moral  sentiments  into 
play,  though  we  are  perfectly  conscious  at  the  time,  that  the 
incidents  are  imaginary.  In  reading  a  novel,  or  seeing  a  the- 
atrical performance,  we  are  pained  and  disappointed,  if  the 
rules  of  "  poetical  justice,"  as  it  is  termed,  are  not  observed.  It 
is  a  noble  characteristic  of  the  taste  and  conscience  of  man,  that 
they  require  in  art  a  closer  adherence  to  the  principles  of  the 
beautiful,  the  just,  and  the  right,  than  we  can  reasonably  expect 
to  be  exemphfied  in  nature  and  Hfe.  The  beau-ideal  is  not 
found  in  the  world ;  poetical  justice  is  confessedly  unreal ;  it 
does  not  follow  merit  and  demerit  in  this  stage  of  existence. 
But  the  restraint  of  circumstances  is  not  felt  in  the  province  of 
invention  ;  and  where  man  is  the  creator,  he  becomes  responsi- 
ble for  the  whole  work.  He  is  bound  to  "  submit  the  shows  of 
things  to  the  desires  of  the  mind."  If  he  cannot  embody  in  his 
work  that  perfect  beauty  and  absolute  right,  of  which  we  dream, 
and  to  which  we  are  constantly  reaching  forward,  he  is  under 
an  obligation,  at  least,  not  to  allow  the  virtuous  to  go  finally 
unrewarded,  nor  the  wicked  to  triumph. 

Moral  taste  shown  to  be  insufficient.  —  But  we  shall  have  a 
most  imperfect  view  of  ^he  action  of  the  moral  faculty,  if  we 

25 


290  THE    NATU1U-:    OF    CONSCIENCE.  * 

Stop  here.  |  This  merely  intellectual  view  of  right  and  wrong, 
this  cool  survey  of  motives  and  conduct  in  their  ethical  aspect, 
this  feast  of  the  moral  sensibilities  at  the  table  of  fiction,  will  be 
almost  as  profitless  in  its  consequences,  as  it  is  meagre  and  un- 
satisfactory in  point  of  scientific  truth.^  We  must  go  back  to 
the  origin  of  these  distinctions,  to  the  ptimal  revelations  of  con- 
science, and  see  where  it  is  that  the  ideas  of  moral_good  and 
evil  have  their  birth.  What  is  most  peculiar  and  original  in 
the  action  of  Hhis  faculty,  and  from  which,  indeed,  all  the  other 
moral  facts  of  our  nature  are  but  inferences  and  generalizations, 
is  the  impulse  of  duty,  or  the  feeling  of  moral  obligation.  /  am 
hound  to  act  with  justice  and  benevolence ;  /  ought  to  do  right 
and  to  follow  after  truth.  This  sense  of  obligation,  this  recog- 
nition of  an  absolute  and  rightful  command,  having  reference 
only  to  conduct,  is  what  we  call  conscience,  in  its  simplest  and 
primitive  meaning.  The  words  right  and  wrong  have  no  sig- 
nificance, except  as  convenient  appellations  afterwards  given  by 
the  intellect  to  those  deeds  which  I  am  thus  bound  to  perform 
or  abstain  from.  Merit  and  demerit  signify  only  the  feelings 
which  arise  in  my  mind  according  as  this  command  has  been 
obeyed  or  violated.  We  cannot  analyze  this  feeling  or  idea  of 
duty,  for,  being  simple,  it  does  not  admit  of  resolution  into  parts, 
or  explanation  by  any  more  obvious  terms.  To  have  it  is  to 
recognize  its  authority,  for  positive  obligation  is  supreme  in  its 
■  very  nature  ;  nothing  can  come  in  conflict  with  it  but  desire, 
which  is  no  obligation  at  all.    \ 

There  is  a  confusion  of  speech,  then,  in  asking  why  we  are 
bound  to  comply  with  tlie  requisitions  of  conscience ;  it  is  re- 
quiring one  tO  tell  why  it  is  a  duty  to  perform  a  duty,  —  thus 
indicating  a  douht  whether  there  is  any  such  thing  as  original 
and  necessary  obligation.  Whatever  answer  is  given,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  question  may  he  continually  repeated.  If  it  be  said, 
for  instance,  that  I  must  obey  conscience  because  it  is  expedi- 
ent, or  because  it  is  conformable  to  the  fitness  of  things,  or  to 
reason,  or  because  it  is  the  will  of  God,  the  question  instantly 
recurs,  Why  am  I  obliged  to  do  what  is  expedient,  or  to  con- 
form to  reason  or  the  fitness  of  things^  or  to  obey  the  will  of 


THE   NATURE    OF    CONSCIENCE.  291 

God  ?  The  higher  reason  of  man  never  thus  returns  in  a  circle 
upon  itself,  for  ever  seeking  without  coming  to  a  knowledge  of 
the  truth.  What  we  mean  by  asking  in  reference  to  any  par- 
ticular action,  Why  is  it  a  duty?  —  why  ought  I  to  perform  it? 
is  no  more  than  this  :  —  Prove  to  me  that  it  is  a  duty ;  only 
place  it  before  me  in  so  clear  a  light  that  my  conscience  shall 
recognize  and  approve  it,  and  I  ask  for  no  higher  sanction.  The 
absolute  obligation  of  the  deed  is  then  revealed  to  me. 

Right  implies  ohligation,  - —  This  doctrine  is  very  clearly  and 
forcibly  stated  by  Dr.  Adams,  a  moralist  of  Oxford.  '•'•Right^^ 
says  he,  "  implies  duty  in  its  idea.  To  perceive  an  action  to  be 
right,  is  to  see  a  reason  for  doing  it  in  the  action  itself,  abstract- 
ed from  all  other  considerations  whatever ;  and  this  perception, 
this  acknowledged  rectitude  in  the  action,  is  the  very  essence 
0^  obligation,  —  that  which  commands  the  approbation  and 
choice,  and  binds  the  conscience  of  every  rational  human  being. 
Nothing  can  bring  us  under  an  obligation  to  do  what  appears  to 
our  moral  judgment  wrong.  It  may  be  supposed  our  interest 
to  do  this,  but  it  cannot  be  supposed  our  duty.  For,  I  ask,  if 
some  power,  which  we  are  unable  to  resist,  should  assume  the 
command  over  usj  and  give  us  laws  which  are  unrighteous  and 
unjust,  should  we  be  under  an  obligation  to  obey  him  ?  Should 
we  not  rather  be  obliged  to  shake  off  the  yoke,  and  to  resist 
such  usurpation,  if  it  were  in  our  power  ?  However,  then,  we 
might  be  swayed  by  hope  or  fear,  it  is  plain  that  we  are  under 
an  obligation  to  right,  which  is  antecedent,  and  in  order  and 
nature  superior,  to  all  other.  Power  may  compel,  interest  may 
bribe,  pleasure  may  persuade,  but  reason  [conscience]  only  can 
oblige.  This  is  the  only  authority  which  rational  beings  can 
own,  and  to  which  they  owe  obedience." 

All  lesser  obligations  are  resohable  into  this  primal  idea  of 
duty,  and  are,  in  truth,  but  the  various  forms  which  this  idea  as- 
sumes, when  it  is  applied  to  the  various  relations  and  circum- 
stances of  life.  Thus,  the  state,  the  society,  or  the  family,  to 
which  one  belongs,  is  said  to  have  authority  over  him,  and  he  is 
bound  to  render  obedience  to  that  authority,  and  to  its  expressed 
will  in  the  form  of  law..    But  so  far  as  this  obedience  is  not  the 


292  THE  NATURE  OF  CONSCIENCE. 

effect  of  compulsion  or  of  the  persua.sion  of  interest,  it  is  ren- 
dered only  because  reason  brings  the  acts  which  are  preserva- 
tive of  such  a»seociations  withm  tlic  sphere  of  conscience,  and  this 
faculty  makes  them  obligatory,  in  the  proper  sense  of  that  word. 
Law  itself,  whether  human  or  Divine,  is  but  a  generalization  of 
the  commands  of  conscience,  and  has  no  proper  authority  but 
what  is  derived  from  this  source,  however  it  may  be  surrounded 
with  rewards  and  punishments,  which  are  intended  to  act  upon 
our  prudence  or  self-love.  It  is  this  wide  compass  and  cease- 
less application  of  the  primitive  sense  of  duty,  which  lends  all 
its  force  to  Wordsworth's  magnificent  exaggeration  of  the  idea, 
in  his  Ode  to  this  "  stern  daughter  of  the  voice  of  God." 

"  Thou  dost  preserve  the  Stars  from  Avrong, 
And  the  most  ancient  Heavens,  through  Thee,  are  fresh  and  sti-ong.'W 

Why  law  is  applied  metaphorically  to  physical  events.  —  We 
see,  then,  how  violent  is  the  metaphor  by  which  we  apply  the 
term  law  to  the  uninterrupted,  or  causal,  succession  of  events  in 
the  physical  world.  We  speak,  for  instance,  of  the  constant 
movements  of  the  planets  in  their  courses  as  the  consequence  of 
the  law  of  gravitation,  —  finding  no  figure  more  appropriate  to 
express  the  immutable  order  of  their  motions,  than  to  represent 
these  vast  orbs  as  voluntary  agents,  hearkening  to  the  stern 
monitor  within  the  breast,  following  its  dictates  w^ith  implicit 
obedience,  and  thus  preserving  the  eternal  harmony  of  the  uni- 
verse. The  awful  supremacy  of  conscience  is  thus  extended, 
though  by  a  figure  of  speech,  over  the  material  creation  ;  and 
we  mark  our  sense  of  the  absolute  character  of  moral  obligation 
by  applying  it  to  what  is  most  fixed  and  unchangeable  among 
the  works  of  God. 

JEven  had  men  acknowledge  conscience  to  he  supreme.  —  I  draw 
one  other  illustration  of  this  subject  from  Dugald  Stewart,  in 
his  fine  remark,  that  "  the  supreme  authority  of  conscience  is 
felt  and  tacitly  acknowledged  by  the  worst,  no  less  than  by  the 
best,  of  men  ;  for  even  they  who  have  thrown  off  all  hypocrisy 
with  the  world,  are  at  pains  to  conceal  tbeir  real  character  from 
their  owa  eyes.     No  man  ever,  in  soliloquy  or  private  medita- 


THE   NATURE    OF    CONSCIENCE.  293 

tion,  avowed  to  himself  that  he  was  a  villain ;  nor  do  I  believe 
that  such  a  character  as  Joseph  Surface,  in  the  School  for  Scan- 
dal, (who  is  introduced  as  reflecting  coolly  on  his  own  knavery 
and  baseness,  without  any  uneasiness  but  what  arises  from  the 
dread  of  detection,)  ever  existed  in  the  world.  Such  men  prob- 
ably impose  on  themselves  fiilly  as  much  as  they  do  upon 
others.  Hence  the  various  artifices  of  self-deceit,  which  But- 
ler has  so  well  described  in  his  discourses  on  that  subject." 

"  We  may  defend  villany,"  says  Lord  Shaftesbury,  as  quoted 
by  Dugald  Stewart,  "  and  cry  up  folly  before  the  world.  But 
to  appear  fools,  madmen,  or  varlets  to  ourselves,  and  prove  it  to 
our  own  faces  that  we  are  really  such,  is  insupportable.  For 
so  true  a  reverence  has  every  one  for  himself,  when  he  comes 
clearly  to  appear  before  his  close  companion,  that  he  had  rather 
profess  the  vilest  things  of  himself  in  open  company,  than  hear 
his  character  privately  from  his  own  mouth.  So  that  we  may 
readily  from  hence  conclude,  that  the  chief  interest  of  ambition, 
avarice,  corruption,  and  every  sly  insinuating  vice,  is  to  pre- 
vent this  interview  and  familiarity  of  discourse,  which  is  conse- 
quent upon  close  retirement  and  inward  recess." 

The  Moral  distinguished  from  the  Physical  Sciences.  —  The 
metaphorical  application  of  words,  the  frequent  interchange  of 
terms  between  the  Moral  and  the  Physical  Sciences,  has  tended 
greatly  to  obscure  and  perplex  the  subject  of  which  we  are  now 
treating,  and  to  cover  up  some  essential  differences  which  would 
otherwise  appear  in  the  clearest  light  to  the  understanding.  A 
statement  of  these  differences  and  distinctions  may  serve  to  elu- 
cidate the  theory  of  human  nature,  and  to  show  how  we,  are 
related  to  the  natural  world,  at  the  same  time  that  we  are  sub- 
jects of  a  moral  government.  The  object  of  the  physical  sci- 
ences, and  of  the  intellect  generally  in  its  searches  after  truth, 
is  to  answer  the  question.  What  is  ?  All  degrees  of  probability 
or  certainty  attend  our  answers  to  this  inquiry,  and  serve  only 
to  mark  how  successful  we  have  been  in  the  undertaking.  We 
endeavor  not  only  to  ascertain  facts,  but  to  arrange  and  classify 
them  with  a  view  to  their  mutual  relations ;  and  the  use  of  gen- 
eral terms  enables  us  to  make  comprehensive  statements  of  the 

25* 


294  THE  NATURE  OF  CONSCIENCE. 

results  of  our  study,  and  to  store  them  up  in  a  form  convenient 
for  future  reference.  Such  statements  are  often  called  laws, 
and  are  said  to  govern  all  the  cases  which  are  merely  included 
under  them.  From  the  idea  of  government,  we  pass  naturally 
to  that  of  infiuence  and  production,  or  causation  ;  and  the  law, 
or  general  statement,  is  then  sai(i  to  cause  all  the  particular  facts 
which  it  comprehends.  Unable  to  find  the  true  cause,  we  as- 
sign a  fictitious  one,  which  is  at  first  recognized  by  the  under- 
standing to  be  fictitious,  but  which  comes  at  last  to  claim  as  its 
own  the  character  which  it  had  only  borrowed. 

The  object  of  ethical  science,  and  of  the  moral  faculty  gen- 
erally, is  quite  distinct  from  this ;  here  we  ask.  What  ought  to 
he'^  —  our  aim  being,  not  so  much  to  satisfy  our  curiosity,  as  to 
regulate  our  conduct.  We  seek  to  ascertain  "the  rules  which 
ought  to  govern  voluntary  action,  and  to  which  those  habitual 
dispositions  of  mind  which  are  the  source  of  voluntary  actions 
ought  to  be  adapted."  The  conception  of  duty,  and  of  absolute 
right,  which  then  comes  before  the  mind,  corresponds  to  noth- 
ing physical,  and  has  no  archetype  in  the  external  universe. 
We  enter  a  new  world  here ;  we  may  ask  for  the  cause  of  a 
fact,  an  event ;  but  it  is  irrelevant  and  absurd  to  inquire  after 
the  cause  of  an  obligation.  lyuty  is  not  caused,  for  it  never  be- 
gan to  he  ;  it  has  existed  from  eternity.  We  cannot  even  con- 
ceive of  a  period  when  justice  was  not,  or  will  not  be,  obligatory 
upon  every  being  capable  of  understanding  what  justice  re- 
quires. Upon  the  idea  or  feeling  expressed  by  the  word  ought 
the  whole  science  of  morals  depends.  It  differs  not  in  degree, 
but  in  kind,  from  desire  and  appetite,  so  that  these  can  never 
really  come  in  competition  with  it.  In  truth,  it  does  not  admit 
of  degrees,  for  there  are  no  half-way  obhgations  ;  conscience 
either  speaks  absolutely,  or  not  at  all.  I  am  obliged  either  to 
cultivate  a  certain  disposition  of  mind,  or  to  repress  it,  if  it  be 
not  indifferent,  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  whether  it  be  cultivated 
or  not.  The  desires,  on  the  other  hand,  exist  in  all  conceivable 
degrees,  from  the  faintest  shade  of  inclination  up  to  the  strong 
passion  which  takes  the  reason  prisoner. 

Source  of  uncertainty  or  skepticism  in  morals.  —  It  is  only 


THE   NATURE    OP    CONSCIENCE.  295 

"when  the  dictates  of  conscience  are  drawn  out  into  the  form  of 
propositions,  and  stated  as  general  laws,  that  any  question  can 
arise  as  to  their  certainty.  Even  then,  the  question  would  not 
be  hard  to  answer.  The  intellect,  we  know,  must  begm  with 
propositions  which  it  cannot  prove,  because  nothing  more  evi- 
dent or  certain  can  be  found  on  which  to  rest  the  argument. 
That  wliich  is  self-evident  is  not,  surely,  to  be  deemed  inferior 
to  that  which  requires  to  be  supported  by  other  evidence,  before 
we  can  receive  and  act  upon  it.  He  who  can  seriously  distrust 
the  evidence  of  his  senses,  or  doubt  his  own  identity,  or  deny 
that  every  event  must  have  a  cause,  must  be  permitted,  also,  to 
exercise  his  skepticism  as  to  the  grounds  of  morality,  and  to 
maintain  that  he  sees  no  reason  why  we  should  sometimes  be 
obliged  to  sacrifice  ourselves  for  others,  or  to  submit  our  com- 
passionate or  benevolent  impulses  to  the  sense  of  duty  and  jus- 
tice. It  would  avail  nothing,  if  we  were  to  hold  up  general 
expediency,  or  the  command  of  God,  as  such  a  reason.  He* 
who  cannot  recognize  the  independent  nature  and  entire  su- 
premacy of  moral  obligation,  as  such,  will  never  yield  to  con- 
siderations like  these,  which  have  in  fact  no  weight,  unless  a 
sense  of  duty  be  taken  for  granted.  We  cannot  argue  with  those 
who  will  not  first  admit  the  principles  upon  which  all  reasoning 
is  founded. 

But,  fortunately  for  thq  world,  skepticism  in  morals  can  never 
be  any  thing  more  than  a  diversion  or  a  whim.  The  matter  is 
exclusively  a  practical  one.  We  are  not  concerned  here  about 
the  truth  of  propositions,  and  therefore  cannot  be  perplexed  by 
the  artifices  of  the  logician  and  the  sophist.  Whether  we  know 
the  meaning  of  words  or  not,  we  cannot  but  be  conscious  that 
we  are  urged  to  do  and  to  refrain  from  doing  certain  things  by 
a  principle  wliich  is  not  coincident  with  self-love,  but  often  runs 
counter  to  it,  and  assumes  to  moderate  and  restrain  it  with  ab- 
solute authority.  Call  this  principle  what  we  may,  its  existence 
is  a  fact  attested  by  consciousness  ;  and  whether  we  submit  to 
its  guidance  or  not,  we  cannot  but  be  conscious  that  it  puts  forth 
a  higher  claim  to  our  obedience  than  all  other  motives  and 


296  THE   NATURE    OF   MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

springs  of  action  united.  No  one  had  a  clearer  perception  of 
this  fact,  or  avowed  it  more  frankly,  than  Hume  himself. 

''  Those,"  says  he,  "  who  have  denied  the  reality  of  moral 
distinctions  may  be  ranked  among  the  disingenuous  disputants ; 
nor  is  it  conceivable,  that  any  human  creature  could  ever  seri- 
ously believe  that  all  characters  and  actions  were  alike  entitled 
to  the  regard  and  affection  of  every  one. 

"  Let  a  man's  insensibility  be  ever  so  great,  he  must  often  be 
touched  with  the  images  of  right  and  wrong  ;  and  let  his  preju- 
dices be  ever  so  obstinate,  he  must  observe  that  others  are  sus- 
ceptible of  like  impressions.  The  only  way,  therefore,  of  con- 
vincing an  antagonist  of  this  kind,  is  to  leave  him  to  himself. 
For,  finding  that  nobody  keeps  up  the  controversy  with  him,  it 
is  probable  he  will  at  last,  of  himself,  from  mere  weariness,  come 
over  to  the  side  of  common  sense  and  reason," 


CHAPTER    IV 

THE   NATURE    OF   MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  The  object  of  the  last  chapter 
was  to  explain  the  nature  and  operations  of  that  faculty,  by  the 
possession  of  which,  even  more  than  by  the  gift  of  reason,  man 
is  raised  above  all  the  other  orders  of  created  being  with  which 
we  are  acquainted.  Conscience,  I  endeavored  to  show,  is  the 
inlet  of  a  new  set  of  ideas,  which  differ  as  widely  from  those 
which  are  furnished  by  the  intellect,  as  the  perceptions  of  vision 
do  from  those  of  touch  and  hearing.  The  object  of  the  intel- 
lect is  truth ;  that  of  conscience  is  duty.  Th^  former  teaches 
us  what  is ;  the  latter  shows  us  luhat  ought  to  he.     The  moral 


THE    NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  297 

faculty  is  universal ;  for  the  most  depraved  and  wicked  person 
that  ever  lived,  is  not  ignorant  of  what  the  words  ought  and 
duty  mean,  though  he  maj  not  heed  them  in  his  conduct.  The 
uninstructed  or  perverted  understanding  may  apply  them 
wrongfully ;  but,  however  applied,  their  obligatory  or  binding 
character  is  always  recognized.  The  idea  of  duty  or  moral  ob- 
ligation is  simple  or  uncompounded  ;  it  does  not  admit  of  defini- 
tion, because  it  is  not  susceptible  of  analysis,  or  of  division  into 
parts.  Hence,  it  is  not  communicable  by  instruction ;  if  it  did 
not  already  exist  in  the  infant  mind,  all  the  teaching  in  the 
world  could  never  place  it  there,  —  any  more  than  mere  words 
could  inform  a  man  what  the  color  yellow  is,  if  he  had  never 
seen  a  yellow  object.  In  the  latter  case,  indeed,  the  senses  give 
us  the  necessary  information ;  having  once  seen  the  unclouded 
sky,  or  the  distant  hills,  or  the  deep  ocean,  I  can  afterwards 
form  a  conception  of  them,  and  can  then  learn  what  the  word 
blue  signifies,  or  the  objects  to  which  it  is  applicable.  Not  so 
in  the  moral  world ;  sense  renders  no  aid  here.  The  primary 
application  of  the  words  right  and  wrong  is  not  to  visible  or 
tangible  things,  or  even  to  any  outward  act,  but  to  the  secret 
I^urposes  of  the  heart ;  for  however  strange  or  mischievous  the 
deed  may  appear,  as  soon  as  we  ascertain  that  it  was  uninten- 
tional, or  that  it  proceeded  from  the  best  motives,  we  immedi- 
ately relieve  the  doer  from  any  moral  blame.  Just  as  the  un- 
derstanding discerns  resemblance  or  contrariety  between  two 
ideas,  does  the  moral  faculty  pronounce  that  truth-telling  is 
right,  and  falsehood  wrong ;  the  only  distinction  between  the 
two  cases  is,  that,  in  the  former  one,  the  mental  act  terminates 
when  the  judgment  is  formed,  truth  or  knowledge  being  the 
only  end  in  view ;  while,  in  the  latter,  the  conception  of  duty 
or  moral  obligation  immediately  rises,  the  judgment  pointing 
directly  to  action.  It  is  not  properly  a  judgment,  then,  but 
a  precept  or  command.  I  not  only  know  that  falsehood  is 
wrong,  but  I  feel  that  veracity  is  a  duty,  —  that  I  am  bound,  on 
all  occasions,  to  tell  the  truth.  More  properly  speaking,  indeed, 
the  conception  of  duty  is  involved  in  the  judgment  of  right, 
and  forms  a  part  of  it ;  to  perceive  the  motive  to  be  sinful, 


298  THE    NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

and  to  recognize  the  obligation  to  repress  it,  is  one  and  the 
same  act. 

It  was  remarked,  further,  that  the  'paramount  character  of 
moral  obligation  over  all  other  motives  or  incentives  to  conduct, 
is  involved  in  the  very  idea  of  obligation.  It  is  an  impertinence 
to  ask  for  a  foundation  for  the  supremacy  of  conscience.  He 
who  commands,  indeed,  assumes  that  he  has  authority ;  and  we 
often  reasonably  doubt  the  fact,  and  require  him  to  show  his 
commission.  But  in  so  doing,  we  virtually  acknowledge  that 
there  is  authority  somewhere,  that  a  higher  power  exists,  whom 
we  are  bound  to  obey,  and  who  is  capable  of  delegating  his 
right  to  command.  Now  it  is  only  by  a  metaphor,  though  an 
apt  and  natural  one,  that  we .  speak  of  the  commands,  or  the 
voice,  of  conscience.  It  is  the  ofl&ce  of  this  faculty  to  create 
that  primitive  and  simple  feeling  of  obligation  which  is  expressed 
by  the  word  ought,  and  which  alone  gives  to  duty  and  authority 
any  proper  meaning.  There  is  a  common  confusion  of  thought 
here.  With  regard  to  a  particular  act  or  duty,  it  is  reasonable 
to  inquire  if  I  am  under  a  moral  obligation  to  perform  or  to 
cherish  it ;  but  when  this  point  is  ascertained,  to  seek  a  reason 
for  that  obligation,  is  to  ask,  why  it  is  a  duty  to  perform  a  duty, 
—  which  is  nonsense.  It  is  demonstrable  that  no  answer  can 
be  given  to  the  question  which  will  prevent  it  from  being  in- 
stantly repeated.  That  what  is  right,  is  of  higher  authority 
than  what  is  merely  expedient,  is  evident  from  the  simple  fact, 
that  right  and  obligation  are  correlative  terms,  or  merely  two  as- 
pects of  (he  same  idea ;  while  obligation  does  not  enter  at  all 
into  the  meaning  of  the  word  expedient. 

Obligation  distinguished  from  constraint.  —  It  is  with  great 
diffidence  that  I  venture  to  differ  on  this  point  from  so  eminent 
an  authority  in  ethical  science  as  Sir  James  Mackintosh.  But 
what  he  has  here  attempted  to  add.  to  the  theory  of  ethics  as 
expounded  by  Bishop  Butler,  seems  to  me  a  violation  of  the 
simplicity  and  truth  of  the  whole  scheme,  and,  instead  of  fur- 
nishing a  basis  for  the  authoritative  claims  of  conscience,  to  de- 
prive this  faculty  of  that  original  and  supreme  authority  which 
is  its  most  striking  characteristic.     There  is  a  fundamental  dif- 


THE    NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  299 

ference  between  the  ideas  of  obligation  and  compulsion,  which, 
though  often  lost  sight  of. in  the  metaphorical  use  of  language, 
is  essential  to  any  proper  understanding  of  the  subject.  A 
subordinate  officer  may  say,  that  he  is  obliged  to  obey  the  com- 
mands of  his  superior ;  but  this  is  constraint,  not  duty  ;  because 
he  knows,  that  if  need  were,  a  file  of  soldiers  would  enforce  the 
command.  On  the  other  hand,  the  dictates  of  conscience  are 
enforced  by  no  power  whatever.  Any  one  may  disobey  them 
who  will.  But,  even  in  the  moment  of  disobedience,  he  is  con- 
scious that  he  is  violating  an  obligation,  properly  so  called, 
Avhich  is  in  its  very'nature  supreme.*  We  do  not  do  right 
because  God  commands  it,  but  God  commands  it  because  it  is 
right.'  The  idea  of  moral  obligation,  then,  —  I  speak  it  rever- 
ently, —  lies  behind  the  authority  of  the  Almighty,  and  is  the 
only  buttress  of  his  throne.  As  for  the  other  supports  that 
have  been  devised  for  the  sense  of  duty,  —  that  the  action  is 
obligatory  because  it  is  expedient,  or  because  it  is  conformable 
to  reason,  to  order,  or  to  the  fitness  of  things,  —  they  hardly 
merit  notice. 

Abstract  arguments  a  priori  cannot  prove  the  moral  govern- 
ment  of  God.  —  And  here  I  rest  what  I  had  to  say  upon  the 
moral  nature  of   man,  as  preparatory  to   the    further  inquiry 

*  The  word  ought  is  the  only  one  in  our  language  which  means,  exclu- 
sively and  unambiguously,  to  be  held  or  hound  in  moral  obligation,  through  the 
consciousness  of  a  law  of  paramount  authority.  This  also  is  the  primary 
meaning  of  the  word  oblige ;  but  unfortunately,  this  word  has  come  to  have 
a  secondary  meaning,  corresponding  very  nearly  with  must,  and  indicating 
physical  necessity  or  compulsion ;  as  when  we  say  that  the  commander  of  a 
besieged  fortress  is  obliged  to  surrender  when  his  means  of  defence  are  ex- 
hausted, or  that  the  captain  of  a  ship  is  obliged  by  adverse  winds  to  move 
in  a  wrong  direction.  In  all  languages,  words  are  found  corresponding 
with  ought,  and  with  the  primaiy  meaning  of  oblige ;  this  may  not  be  their 
sole  meaning,  but  it  is  always  one  of  their  recognized  significations.  This 
fact  indicates  that  the  sense  of  vioral  obligation,  wholly  distinct  from  per- 
suasion or  desire  on  the  one  hand,  and  from  physical  necessity  on  the  other, 
is  a  part  of  the  universal  consciousness  of  men  ;  it  is  always  recognized, 
though  it  is  not  always  obeyed.  As  it  is  a  simple  idea,  we  cannot  analyze 
it ;  and  as  it  is  an  ultimate  principle  in  human  nature,  we  cannot  explain 
or  account  for  it. 


300  THE    NATURK    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

into  the  attributes  of  tlie  Deity,  and  into  that  manifestation  of 
them  which  calls  for  the  religious  homage  of  the  whole  human 
family.  The  question  now  is,  —  Have  we  satisfactory  assur- 
ance, even  from  the  light  of  nature,  that  God  does  indeed  govern 
the  earth  ?  and  if  so,  by  what  rule  does  he  govern  it  ?  The 
doctrine  of  uninterrupted  Divine  agency,  which  was  considered 
at  length,  and,  as  I  think,  established,  in  the  former  Part, 
teaches  us,  indeed,  that  all  events  are  of  his  disposal ;  but  the 
doctrine  was  then  viewed  chiefly  in  relation  to  physical  occur- 
rences, or  to  what  are  called  the  laws  of  the  outward  world.  Is 
the  moral  world  equally  under  his  guidance  and  dominion  ?  and 
does  conscience,  in  its  purity  and  supremacy,  only  mirror  to  us 
the  lisrht  of  his  countenance  ?  Is  man,  also,  in  his  intellectual 
and  moral  nature,  subject  to  laws  as  inflexible  as  those  which 
govern  the  planets  in  their  courses  ?  and  as  the  latter  manifest 
to  us  the  wisdom  and  power  of  the  Lawgiver,  so  do  the  former 
evince  to  us  his  justice,  benevolence,  and  holiness? 

The  answer  of  these  questions  in  the  affirmative,  upon  satis- 
factory grounds,  you  perceive,  will  aflford  evidence  a  posteriori 
of  the  moral  character  of  the  Deity,  and,  as  a  necessary  conse- 
quence, of  the  religious  duties  of  man.  It  is  customary  with 
writers  upon  this  subject,  I  a.m  well  aware,  to  proceed  entirely 
upon  abstract  reasoning,  and  to  deduce  the  moral  attributes  from 
the  natural  ones,  the  whole  doctrine  resting  upon  arguments 
a  priori.  Thus,  the  doctrine  of  the  omniscience  of  the  Divine 
Being  is  upheld,  as  "  a  necessary  inference  from  that  of  a  uni- 
vcrsal  Creator.  He  who  made  all  creatures  and  things  —  that 
is  to  say,  who  gave  them  their  being  and  properties  —  cannot 
but  know  the  being  and  properties  which  himself  has  given,  and 
the  ways  in  which  they  will  be  developed  and  will  operate." 
Ao-ain,  the  infinite  benevolence  and  holiness  of  God  are  deduced 
immediately  from  a  consideration  of  his  omniscience  and  infinite 
power  and  wisdom. 

Now  I  am  far  from  denying  the  validity  of  such  reasoning  as 
this,  and  there  is  unquestionably  a  certain  class  of  minds  so 
peculiarly  constituted  that  it  is  more  satisfactory  to  them ,  than 
any  other.     But  it  seems  to  me  to  be  chargeable  with  this  great 


THE    NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  301 

defect,  —  that  unless  it  can  be  supported  by  the  evidence  of 
facts,  that  is,  by  observation  and  experience,  it  leaves  the  in- 
quirer in  a  worse  condition  than  he  was  before  he  began  the 
study  of  the  subject.  Of  what  use  is  it  to  demonstrate  to  him 
by  abstract  reasoning,  that  the  Almighty  must  govern  in  holiness 
the  world  which  he  has  made,  when,  from  his  knowledge  of 
history,  from  the  mode  in  which  he  has  been  accustomed  to  look 
upon  natural  occurrences  and  the  conduct  of  mankind,  and  from 
his  personal  experience,  he  is  compelled  to  doubt  whether  the 
world  is  governed  at  all?  Perplexed  by  this  contradiction 
between  reason  and  experience,  he  will  be  tempted  to  reject  the 
doctrine  and  the  argument  along  with  it,  —  not  that  he  can 
detect  any  flaw  in  the  latter,  but  because  he  is  obliged  to  dis- 
trust the  power  of  the  human  mind  ever  to  arrive  at  any  truth. 
Prove  to  him,  that  an  omniscient  God  must  necessarily  be  in- 
finitely benevolent  and  holy,  and  at  the  same  time  *  allow  him  to 
believe,  that  the  history  of  mankind  is  one  long  record  of 
wretchedness  and  sin,  and  what  conclusion  can  he  draw,  except 
that  the  doctrine  of  a  superintending  Providence  is  either  an 
inexplicable  mystery  or  a  delusion,  or  that  reasoning  which 
seems  to  be  demonstrative  is,  in  truth,  wholly  treacherous  and 
unsound?  Tiie  adoption  of  the  latter  alternative  only  adds 
skepticism  in  philosophy  to  disbelief  in  religion.  If  we  were 
concerned  with  the  truths  of  theology  only  as  we  are  with  the 
principles  of  abstract  science,  then  this  mode  of  evolving  them 
one  from  the  other  in  logical  succession,  as  it  would  add  to  the 
symmetry  and  elegance  of  the  theory,  and  lead  to  no  conse- 
quences that  would  be  practically  injurious,  might  well  be 
adopted,  if  for  no  other  reason,  yet  as  a  diversion  of  the  intel- 
lect.*    But  as  matters  of  immediate  and  momentous  interest, 

*  In  the  exact  sciences,  too  much  regard  cannot  be  paid  to  method,  to 
the  systematic  evolution  of  principles  in  their  natural  order,  each  step 
being  the  natural  consequence  of  its  immediate  predecessor,  and  the 
natural  preparation  for  the  one  which  is  to  follow  it.  Geometry  and 
Mechanics  owe  much  of  their  beauty,  as  well  as  their  intelligibleness,  to 
this  rigid  observance  of  method  in  the  evolution  of  their  principles.  They 
are  as  perfect  examples  of  synthesis  as  the  composition  of  stones  that 

2G 


302  THE   NATURE    OF   MORAL    GOVERNMEXT. 

it  behooves  us  to  study  them  in  such  a  maimer  as  to  leave  clear 
and  deeply  rooted  convictions  in  the  soul.  They  relate  not 
merely  to  faith,  but  to  practice  j  and  experience  is  therefore  our 
Furest  guide  in  the  investigation,  and  the  safest  teacher  in  con- 
duct. By  approaching  the  subject  in  this  manner,  we  remove 
Ihe  difficulties  alleged  by  the  skeptic  before  laying  the  founda- 


i  onstitutes  an  arch.  But  in  the  moral  sciences,  it  may  be  doubted  wheth-er 
t  lie  love  of  system  has  not  been  carried  too  far,  whether  the  desire  to  round 
eft'  one's  speculations  into  a  complete  theory  has  not  led,  on  the  one  hand, 
to  a  suppression  or  imperfect  statement  of  some  important  truths,  and  on 
the  other,  to  a  needless  repetition  and  an  exag-gerated  estimate  of  some 
j)rinciples  which  are  really  of  secondary  importance.  Both  in  Politics 
imd  Political  Economy,  the  system  which  professes  to  be  deduced  in  an 
exact  method  from  a  single  principle,  is  yery  apt  to  be  a  false  system. 
These  sciences  are  based  upon  human  natui-e,  and  therefore  must  be  cc^n- 
formed  to  the  manifold  diversities  and  inconsistencies  of  that  nature.  Mr. 
]\[ill  derives  the  whole  theory  of  Government  from  the  single  assumed 
fict,  that  every  man  pursues  his  interest  when  he  knows  it ;  to  which  Sir 
James  Mackintosh  acutely  objects,  that  "  a  nation,  as  much  as  an  individual, 
i'.nd  sometimes  more,  may  not  only  mistake  its  interest,,  but,  perceiving  ifi 
dearly,  may  prefer  the  gratification  of  a  strong  passion  to  it..  The  Avhole 
fabric  of  Mill's  political  reasoning  seems  to  be  overthrown  by  this  single 
observation;  and  instead  of  attempting  to  explain  the  immense  variety 
of  political  facts  by  the  simple  principle  of  a  contest  of  interests,  we  are 
reduced  to  the  necessity  of  once  more  referring  them  to  that  variety  of 
passions,  habits,  opinions,  and  prejudices,  which  we  discover  only  by  ex- 
jjerience." 

In  Political  Economy,  hardly  can  any  one  topic  be  adequately  developed 
and  explained,  without  taking  for  granted  a  general  knowledge  of  all 
the  other  topics,  or  entering  into  a  provisional  explanation  of  them. 
A7ealth,  Exchange,  Value,  Money,  Cost,  Profits,  Wages, — all  are  con- 
nected with  each  other  like  the  threads  of  a  continuous  network  inclosing 
a  sphere.  It  matters  little  where  we  begin ;  whatever  part  we  first  take  up 
vrill  be  found  to  involve  a  consideration  of  nearly  all  the  other  parts  of 
the  system.  In  such  cases,  we  best  preserve  the  essentials  of  method,  by 
sacrificing  its  outward  forms.  Logic  must  give  way  temporarily  to  rhet- 
oric ;  that  view  of  the  subject  which  most  readily  presents  itself  to  an  in- 
quiring mind,  ignorant  as  yet  of  the  elements  of  the  science,  should  be 
preferred  to  the  more  comprehensive  and  exact  development  of  it,  which 
can  be  understood  and  appreciated  only  by  the  proficient  who  has  care- 
fully examined  the  whole  ground.  A  picture  is  better  than  a  map  for 
eome  purposes. 


THE    NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  303 

tions  of  our  religious*  belief,  and  then  proceed  to  erect  the  struc- 
ture with  a  firmer  assurance,  that  "  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not 
prevail  against  it." 

Constraint  distinguished  from  government.  —  I  go  back, 
therefore,  to  the  question  as  I  first  propounded  it :  —  Looking 
at  the  world  only  as  the  theatre  of  human  experience,  is  there 
sufiicient  evidence  that  it  is  constantly  under  the  government  of 
its  Creator,  who  directs  the  conduct,  and  takes  an  interest  in 
the  welfare,  of  the  beings  whom  he  has  made  ?  The  inanimate 
universe  and  the  inferior  orders  of  living  creatures,  as  we  have 
seen,  depend  immediately,  and  in  all  their  movements,  upon  the 
constant  care  and  agency  of  the  Supreme  Being.  The  same 
power  which  brought  them  into  existence,  sustains  and  guides 
them,  whether  in  motion  or  at  rest.  Every  event,  every  change 
in  their  condition,  from  the  falling  of  an  atom  up  to  the  revolu- 
tions of  a  system  of  worlds,  is  attributable  directly  to  the 
agency  of  God.  But  this  agency  here  is  immediate  and  exclu- 
sive ;  it  is  the  direct  exercise  of  power,  not  cooperating  with 
or  modified  by  any  power  inherent  in  the  bodies  themselves, 
but  negativing  the  existence  of  such  secondary  power ;  it  is  con- 
straint, not  government.  But  man  is  a  free  agent ;  in  one 
sense,  and  to  a  certain  extent,  he  governs  himself.  Endowed 
with  freewill,  and  left  to  choose  "imong  many  motives  of  action, 
his  obedience,  if  rendered  at  all,  is  voluntary,  not  mechanical. 
Is  such  obedience  claimed  of  him  ?  Is  man,  also,  under  Divine 
government,  —  the  will  of  his  Creator  being  signified  to  him  in 
language  that  he  cannot  mistake,  and  enforced,  not  indeed  hy  the 
i^on  law  of  necessity,  which  fs  incompatible  with  his  whole 
moral  nature,  but  by  such  considerations  as  may  influence  the 
conduct  of  a  free  and  rational  being  ? 

Sutler's  argument  for  the  moral  government  of  God.  —  To 
this  question  it  is  usual  to  answer,  as  Bishop  Butler  has  done, 
that  the  pleasures  and  pains  of  our  mortal  existence  are  properly 
considered  as  rewards  and  punishments,  the  distribution  of 
which  was  intended  to  influence  our  conduct.  They  mark  out 
the  course  in  which  it  was  designed  that  we  should  walk,  and 
serve  at  once  to  indicate  the  will  of  the  Ruler  of  the  universe, 


304  THE   NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

and  to  supply  strong  motives  for  compliance  with  his  command* 
"  All  which  we  enjoy,  and  a  great  part  of  what  we  suffer,  is  put 
in  our  own  power.  For  pleasure  and  pain  are  the  consequences 
of  our  actions,  and  we  are  endowed  by  the  Author  of  our  nature 

Adth  capacities  of  foreseeing  these  consequences It  is 

certain  matter  of  universal  experience,  that  the  general  method 
of  Divine  administration  is,  forewarning  us,  or  giving  us  capac- 
ities to  foresee,  with  more  or  less  clearness,  that  if  we  act  so 
and  so,  we  shall  have  such  enjoyments,  and  if  so  and  so,  such 
sufferings ;  and  giving  us  those  enjoyments,  and  making  us  feel 
those  sufferings,  in  consequence  of  our  actions." 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  adduce  examples  to  illustrate  this 
mode  of  government,  as  every  human  being  has  daily  experience 
of  its  operation.  Imprudence,  negligence,  or  feebleness  in  the 
management  of  our  ordinary  concerns,  is  sure  to  be  followed  by 
mischievous  consequences,  which  form  its  appropriate  punish- 
ment. If  I  transgress  the  known  laws  of  physiology,  I  am  sure 
to  suffer  for  it  by  bodily  weakness  or  disease  ;  and  if  the  trans- 
gression becomes  extreme,  sickness  ends  in  death.  The  health 
of  the  mind  is  equally  cared  for ;  we  are  admonished,  in  very 
significant  language,  that  mental  cultivation,  exertion,  and  re- 
pose are  appointed  to  us,  each  in  its  season  and  proper  degree, 
and  the  evils  of  neglect,  delay,  or  excess,  are  the  sharp  penal- 
ties that  enforce  the  law.  As  yet,  I  intentionally  pass  over  all 
instances  relating  to  the  breach  of  moral  laws ;  these  will  be 
considered  hereafter,  in  a  different  connection. 

It  is  no  objection  to  this  view  of  the  matter  to  say,  that  these 
assumed  penalties  are  hut  the  inevitable  results  of  the  natural 
constitution  of  things.^  the  necessary  effects  of  known  physical 
causes.  The  constitution  of  things  is  the  appointment  of  the 
Creator,  and  what  is  called  physical  causation  is  the  constant 
working  of  Divine  power.  When  we  speak  of  the  laws  of 
nature  as  invariable,  and  of  the  consequences  of  a  failure  to 
comply  with  them  as  inevitable,  we  only  mark  our  sense  of  the 
constancy  and  stahility  of  his  administration.*     The   govern- 

" '  But  all  this  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  general  course  of  nature.'  True. 
This  is  the  very  thing  which  I  am  observing.     It  is  to  be  ascribed  to  tire 


THE    NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  305 

ment  under  which  we  live  never  fluctuates,  wavers,  or  sleeps ; 
its  care  extends  to  the  regulation  even  of  our  minutest  concerns, 
and  the  offence  against  it  which  is  committed  in  secret  bears  its 
penalty  as  surely  as  that  which  was  flagrant  and  avowed  in  the 
face  of  day. 

Obedience  required  irrespective  of  consequences.  —  But  I  go 
much  further.  From  the  analysis  of  our  moral  nature,  which 
has  just  occupied  our  attention,  it  appears  that  obedience  to  law 
is  demanded  of  us  for  its  own  sake,  irrespective  of  the  conse- 
quences that  will  follow  transgr'ession.  Prior  to  all  experience, 
in  the  mind  of  every  human  being,  arises  spontaneously  the 
idea  or  sense  of  obligation,  of  duty  as  such,  of  submission  to 
duthority  whfcli  is  recognized  as  supreme,  and  obeyed  without 
compulsion  or  reference  to  the  consequences  of  disobedience 
upon  our  personal  welfare.  This  idea  is  the  one  that  lies  at 
the  root  of  all  government,  and  without  which,  in  fact,  no  gov- 
ernment is  possible,  .except  that  of  despotism  supported  by  irre- 
sistible power.  Authority  can  have  no  other  title  hut  that  of 
mighty  or  of  right.  In  the  former  case,  ohedience^  being  compul- 
sory, is,  properly  speaking,  no  obedience  at  all.  It  is  but  a  me- 
chanical yielding  to  superior  force.     An  offender  who  is  actu- 


general  course  of  nature :  i.  e.  not  surely  to  the  words  or  ideas,  course  of 
nature ;  but  to  him  who  appointed  it,  and  put  things  into  it ;  or  to  a  course 
of  operation,  from  its  uniformity  or  constancy,  called  natural ;  and  which 
necessarily  implies  an  operating  agent.  For  when  men  find  themselves 
necessitated  to  confess  an  Author  of  Nature,  or  that  God  is  the  natural  gov- 
ernor of  the  world,  they  must  not  deny  this  again,  because  his  government 
is  uniform;  they  must'not  deny  that  he  does  things  at  all,  because  he  does 
them  constantly ;  because  the  effects  of  his  acting  are  permanent,  whether 
his  acting  be  so  or  not ;  though  there  is  no  reason  to  think  it  is  not.  In 
short,  every  man,  in  every  thing  he  does,  naturally  acts  upon  the  fore- 
thought and  apprehension  of  avoiding  evil  or  obtaining  good  :  and  if  the 
natural  course  of  things  be  the  appointment  of  God,  and  our  natural  facul- 
ties of  knowledge  and  experience  are  given  us  by  him,  then  the  good  and 
bad  consequences  which  follow  our  actions,  are  his  appointment,  and  our 
foresight  of  those  consequences  is  a  warning  given  us  by  him,  how  we  are 
to  act."  —  Butler's  Analogy,  Part  I.  Chap  2. 

26* 


306  THE    NATURE    OP    MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

ally  in  the  grasp  of  the  officers  of  the  law,  and  is  dragged  away 
by  them  to  punishment,  may  be  said  to  obey  their  motions  ;  but 
in  no  other  sense  than  as  a  ship  is  said  to  obey  the  impulse  of 
the  winds.  There  is  no  will,  no  proper  volition,  in  the  ease ; 
and  tlierefore  no  proper  submission  or  obedience.  Even  if  vio- 
lence is  not  actually  applied,  but  only  threatened,  there  being  a 
moral  certainty  that  the  threat  will  be  executed,  the  individual 
may  be  said  to  yield,  but  he  does  not  properly  obey,  or  recog- 
nize the  authority  which  thus  constrains  him  against  his  will. 
He  is  still,  either  in  expectation  or  reality,  moved  by  brute 
force,  —  not  governed, 

A  mere  system  of  rewards  and  punishments  is  not  government. 
—  Perhaps  it  will  not  be  deemed  refining  too  far,  if  I  add,  that 
a  mere  system  for  influencing  the  conduct  of  others  through  re- 
wards and  penalties,  without  reference  to  an  assumed  legitimate 
authority,  or  right  to  command,  is  not  government,  but  persua- 
sion. Thus,  /  7nay  determine  the  conduct  of  my  neighbor  by 
making  sufficiently  liberal  appeals  to  his  interest ;  I  may  induce 
him  to  give  up  to  me  his  house  and  land,  or  even  to  sell  his 
services.  Still,  he  is  not  governed;  there  being  no  assumption  of 
authority,  no  claim  of  right,  on  either  side.  He  only  go  ;erns 
whose  commands  are  obeyed  from  a  sense  of  moral  obligation ; 
and  the  fruits  of  disobedience  are  properly  considered  as  pun- 
ishment, only  after  it  is  admitted  that  the  disobedience  is  a  moral 
wrong.  Hence,  no  one  is  justified  in  violating  the  law  simply 
because  he  is  willing  to  suffer  the  penalty  attached  to  that  in- 
fraction, nor  does  the  suffering  expiate  the  guilt  which  he  has 
incurred.  Penalties  are  means  of  enforcing  obedience  which 
are  but  one  degree  less  violent  than  the  direct  application  of 
superior  strength. 

I  do  not  say  that  a  system  of  rewards  and  punishments  is  so 
inconsistent  with  the  nature  of  moral  government  that  the  two 
cannot  exist  together,  or  that  the  one  cannot  be  a  supplement 
of  the  other,  operating  to  make  it  more  universal  and  effective. 
On  the  contrary,  I  shall  attempt  to  show  hereafter,  that  such  a 
Bystem,  very  complete  and  admirable  in  its  arrangements,  is  an 


THE   NATURE    OF   MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  307 

actual  adjunct  of  the  Divine  government,  whicli,  without  it, 
would  be  quite  too  limited  in  its  effects  upon  human  conduct. 
But  my  present  point  is,  that  the  government  itself,  or  the  pro- 
nunciation of  a  law  and  the  recognition  of  its  authority  and 
binding  power,  is  perfectly  distinct  from  the  means  and  appli- 
ances by  which  it  is  made  effective,  and  men  are  brought  under  ifs 
control;  the  promidgation  of  a  law  is  one  thing,  and  the  appa- 
ratus for  its  enforcement  i*  another.  We  can  conceive  of  n 
community  so  virtuous,  that  rewards  and  penalties  should  not 
be  needed  or  known  among  them,  but  obedience  should  be 
spontaneous  and  universal ;  their  state,  then,  would  not  be  the 
absence  of  government,  but  its  perfection.  With  less  compli- 
ant dispositions,  some  means  of  enforcing  the  law  are  needed, 
till  obedience  becomes  a  habit,  and  the  yoke,  as  in  the  former 
case,  is  easily  borne.  Thus,  in  the  scheme  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence, rewards  and  punishments  are  our  schoolmasters  ;  by  them 
we  are  educated  into  obedience,  and  become  willing  subjects  of 
the  reign  of  God  upon  the  earth. 

"  Lord,  with  what  care  hast  thou  begirt  us  round  I 

Parents  first  season  us ;  then  schoolmasters 
Deliver  us  to  laws  ;  tliej  scad  us  bound 

To  rules  of  reason,  holy  messengers, 
Pulpits  and  Sundays,  sorrow  dogging  sin. 

Afflictions  sorted,  anguish  of  all  sizes. 
Fine  nets  and  stratagems  to  catch  us  in, 

Bibles  laid  open,  niilUons  of  surprises. 
Blessings  beforehand,  ties  of  gratefulness. 

The  sound  of  glory  ringing  in  our  ears ; 
Without  our  shame,  within  our  consciences ; 

Angels  and  grace,  eternal  hopes  and  fears. 
Yet  all  these  forces^  and  their  whole  an-ay. 
One  cunning  bosom-sin  blows  quite  away." 

How  obedience,  at  first  selfishly  rendered,  becomes  pure.  — 
That  beautiful  law  of  our  mental  constitution,  which  accounts 
for  the  formation  of  what  are  called  "  secondary  desires,"  affords 
a  means  for  the  purification  of  the  motive,  and  for  a  passage 
from  the  selfish  to  the  disinterested  stage  of  moral  progress. 


308  THE    NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

The  process  is  a  simple  one,  being  merely  a  transference  of  tJie 
affections  from  the  end  to  the  means.  By  the  association  of  ideas, 
that  which  was  at  first  loved  or  practised  only  as  an  instrument, 
becomes  the  leading  idea  and  the  chief  object  of  pursuit.  Thus, 
in  the  downward  course,  money,  at  first  desired  only  as  a  means 
of  gratifying  the  appetites,  or  of  answering  some  higher  ends, 
becomes  itself  "an  appetite  and  a  passion,"  and  the  vicious 
habit  of  avarice  is  formed.  And  so,  in  our  upward  progress;^ 
the  honesty  which  was  first  practised  only  because  it  was  the 
best  policy,  the  worsliip  of  God  which  was  first  paid  only  as 
the  price  of  heaven,  become  at  last  the  unbought  and  unselfish 
homage  of  the  soul  to  uprightness,,  holiness,  and  truth.  Virtue 
deserves  its  name  only  Avhen,  by  long  practice,  it  has  become  a 
fwced  habit ;  for  then  only  is  it  freed  from  the  stain  of  selfish- 
ness. The  terrors  of  the  law  are  proclaimed  to  the  sinner  only 
that  he  may  be  able  to  overcome  the  first  shock  of  the  transi- 
tion from  sin  to  holiness ;  its  promises  are  reserved  for  those 
only  who,  by  patient  continuance  in  well-doing,  have  become 
alike  indifferent  to  the  debasing  fear  and  the  debasing  hope. 

Conscience  proves  the  moral  government  of  God,  —  But  to  re- 
turn to  the  leading  branch  of  our  subject ;  —  I  do  not  see  that 
there  is  any  possibility  of  regarding  the  most  prominent  fact  in 
the  moral  constitution  of  man  in  any  other  light,  than  as  a 
direct  proof  of  the  government  which  the  Deity  exercises  over 
him,  and  of  the  constant  submission  and  obedience  which  are 
required  of  him,  even  at  the  expense,  if  necessary,  of  his  tem- 
poral interests.  His  consciousness  informs  him,  that  the  author- 
ity thus  exercised  is  absolute,  or  suyj^eme  ;  all  considerations  of 
interest,  all  earthly  authority,  must  give  way  to  it.  At  the 
same  time,  this  subject  of  the  Divine  government  remains  a  free 
agent ;  he  may,  he  often  does,  act  in  opposition  to  the  law  within 
the  heart,  and  braves  the  consequences  of  the  violation.  What 
those  consequences  are,  or  how  the  moral  law  is  upheld  by  cor- 
responding arrangements  in  the  physical  universe,  or  the  gen- 
eral constitution  of  things,  I  do  not  now  consider ;  nor  is  it  nec- 
essary for  our  present  purpose  to  ask  what  the  commands  are 


THE   NATURE    OF   MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  309 

which  are  promulgated  under  this  awful  authority.  It  is 
enough  at  present  to  show,  that  a  claim  to  supreme  authority,  for 
commands  of  luhatever  nature,  is  actually  set  up  and  universally 
recognized ;  for  this  is  sufficient  proof  that  the  affairs  of  the  ^ 
moral  universe  are  under  the  constant  direction  and  government 
of  its  Creator.  The  Epicurean  theory,  that  God  exists,  but 
does  not  govern,  is  not  a  whit  less  improbable  and  absurd  than 
the  hypothesis  of  the  atheist. 

Ohjectio7i  refuted.  —  To  this  argument  it  may  be  objected, 
that,  according  to  the  view  already  taken  of  the  theory  of  ethics, 
the  obligation  of  the  moral  law  does  not  in  anywise  depend  upon 
the  ivill  of  the  Deity,  but  exists  anterior  to  all  command,  and 
forms,  in  truth,  the  only  ground  upon  which  we  can  impute 
holiness  to  him,  or  justice  to  his  deahngs  with  men.  Certainly, 
this  law  does  not  appear  to  us  as  arbitrary,  or  dependent  upon 
mere  will ;  if  it  did,  we  could  not  recognize  its  absolute  and  in- 
herent obligation.  But  it  may  properly  he  regarded  as  his  laio 
through  whose  agency  alone  it  is  made  known  to  us  ;  he  who  pro- 
mulgates and  sanctions  a  laiu,  may  be  regarded  as  the  author  of 
it  by  those  whom  he  addresses.  He  has  so  constituted  our 
minds,  that  we  cannot  escape  a  knowledge  of  the  law,  and  fre- 
quent monitions  of  its  paramount  claims  to  obedience.  The 
endowment  of  conscience  is  as  plain  an  indication  of  his  will  in 
this  respect,  as  the  curious  structure  of  the  eye  is  of  his  inten- 
tion that  we  should  see.  Compliance  with  the  law  of  con- 
science, then,  is  obedience  to  God. 

Argument  from  design  founded  on  our  intellectual  and  moral 
nature.  —  The  extraordinary  number,  obviousness,  and  beauty 
of  those  illustrations  of  the  argument  from  design,  which  are 
drawn  from  the  physical  universe,  arrest  and  detain  the  atten- 
tion with  so  strong  a  grasp,  that  it  is  difficult  to  give  due  prom- 
inence and  effect  to  the  other  branch  of  the  same  argument, 
which  rests  upon  the  intellectual  and  moral  nature  of  man.  If 
we  were  not  accustomed  to  dwell  so  exclusively  upon  the  for- 
mer, attracted  by  the  copious  and  interesting  details  which  it 
brings  to  our  notice,  I  think  every  one  would  acknowledge,  that 


310  THE    NATURE   OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

the  latter  was  really  even  more  direct,  logical,  and  convincing. 
The  marks  of  contrivance  in  tlie  arrangements  of  matter  which 
fill  earth,  sea,  and  skies,  the  effects  that  are  constantly  repro- 
duced, all  working  together  harmoniously,  often  by  long  and 
complex  processes,  for  the  production  of  specific  and  useful 
results,  compel  us  to  believe,  not  only  that  God  exists,  but  that 
he  is  constantly  present  in  his  material  creation,  sustaining,  vivi- 
fying, acting  with  ceaseless  energy ;  the  objects  themselves,  and 
all  the  changes  and  movement^^  which  take  place  in  them,  afford- 
ing equally  striking  proofs  of  his  immediate  agency  and  uni- 
versal Providence.  But  minds  which  are  compelled  to  admit 
this  conclusion  without  hesitancy,  are  so  much  perplexed  by  the 
history  of  man  upon  the  earth,  by  the  long  and  gloomy  record 
of  human  folly,  ignorance,  passion,  wilfulness,  suffering,  and  sin, 
that  they  are  half  disposed  to  make  our  race  the  only  excep- 
tions to  the  universality  of  Divine  care  and  forethought,  and 
to  believe  that  man  alone  is  left  to  himself  in  this  world,  free 
to  work  out  his  own  inventions,  and  to  endure  their  conse- 
quences. A  belief  in  the  absolute  freedom  of  the  human  will 
seems,  at  first  sight,  almost  necessarily  to  lead  to  this  doctrine. 
How  can  man,  they  ask,  he  both  free  and  governed,  self-directed 
and  subject  to  another's  tvill  and  power,  —  at  the  some  moment 
a  sovereign,  and  an  automaton  or  a  slave  ?  And  the  result, 
the  effects  that  are  actually  produced,  appear  to  corroborate  this 
opinion,  to  which  we  have  been  led  by  the  antecedent  view  of 
the  case.  If  man  be  governed  at  all  by  Supreme  Power,  his 
history  seems  to  prove  that  he  is  very  ill-governed.  To  recur 
to  a  former  illustration,  the  economy  of  a  hive  of  bees  puts  to 
shame  the  most  orderly  society  that  the  wit  of  man  ever  framed 
and  maintained.  No  wonder  that  the  doctrine  of  the  original 
and  total  depravity  of  the  human  race  has  obtained  so  ready  an 
acceptance  wdth  most  theologians,  even  on  grounds  apart  from 
Scripture.  The  history  of  the  civilized  portion  of  the  race,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  earlier  ages  of  the  world,  or  of  the  great 
majority  of  its  present  inhabitants  still  sunk  in  barbarism  and 
all  the  evils  of  savage  life,  seem  to  sustain  and  also  to  demon- 
strate it. 


THE  NATURE  OF  MORAL  GOVERNMENT.        311 

Beauty  of  the  contrivance  hy  which  this  problem  is  solved.  — 
I  ladmit  the  difficulty  to  its  full  extent,  and  have  endeavored  to 
make  the  statement  of  it  as  full  and  forcible  as  possible,  so  as 
to  give  no  room  for  the  imputation  of  evading  the  real  knot  and 
perplexity  in  the  argument.  But  it  is  on  account  of  the  great- 
ness of  the  difficulty,  —  because  we  see  that  human  reason  alone, 
unaided  by  conscience,  could  not  reconcile  the  contradiction 
which  is  here  presented  to  it,  —  that  we  are  so  much  struck  by 
the  display  of  infinite  wisdom  which  has  solved  the  problem  so 
completely,  that  not  a  shadow  remains  from  it  upon  the  faith  of 
the  believer.  To  reconcile  absolute  government  with  perfect 
freewill  on  the  part  of  the  governed,  and  to  account  for  the 
existence  of  moral  and  physical  evil  without  imputing  either 
cai'elessness  or  malevolence  to  the  ruler,  is  the  problem  to  he 
solved.  The  instinct  of  brutes,  which  is  a  power  acting  above 
their  individual  nature  and  the  sphere  of  their  consciousness, 
shows  us  how  man  might  be  guided  to  the  highest  and  noblest 
ends,  so  that  all  the  lower  purposes  of  his  being  should  be 
answered,  and  his  happiness  provided  for  in  full  measure,  with- 
out any  moral  endowment  whatever,  and  of  course,  without  any 
responsibihty  on  his  part,  or  any  possibility  of  sin.  But  merit 
and  demerit  would  then  be  words  without  meaning,  as  compul- 
sory virtue  is  a  contradiction  in  terms.  Man,  then,  must  be 
self-guided,  but  must  still  act  under  the  consciousness  of  a  law 
which  he  acknowledges  to  be  supreme,  and  to  which  he  owes 
implicit  obedience.  The  point  is,  that  he  should  be  able  to 
recognize  the  supremacy  of  this  law,  and  still  be  free  to  obey  it 
or  not.  Admitting  his  freedom,  and  the  full  force  of  the  instinc- 
tive passions  and  appetites  by  which  he  is  swayed  or  impelled, 
how  can  he  remain  a  subject  of  the  Divine  government  ? 

Solution  of  the  problem.  —  Suppose,  then,  that  a  voice  from 
heaven  should  proclaim  to  him  distinctly,  at  every  hour  and 
minute  of  the  day,  the  will  of  an  infinitely  superior  being  as  to 
the  regulation  of  his  conduct,  —  the  voice  being  accompanied  by 
such  manifest  and  imposing  tokens  of  the  majesty  and  omnipo- 
tence of  the  source  whence  it  came,  that  even  the  natural  senti- 
ment of  awe,  not  supported  by  any  direct  reference  to  conse- 


iJ12  THE   NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

quences,  would  incline  him  to  submit  implicitly  to  the  command. 
Suppose  that  the  purport  of  the  order  thus  supernaturally  com- 
municated to  him  was  to  restrict  his  natural  impulses  and  de- 
sires, and  to  set  before  him  a  rule  of  conduct  more  perfect  even 
than  a  chastised  and  rational  regard  for  his  own  happiness,  so 
that  a  self-guided  will  should  submit  to  the  saci*ifice  of  self. 
Still  it  might  be  said,  that  his  aw e-struch  faculties  were  terrijied 
into  submission,  so  that  in  truth,  compliance  was  no  longer  free. 
And  so,  if  man  were  endowed  only  with  appetite  and  intellect^ 
must  every  other  attempt  fail  to  get  rid  of  the  difficulty  in  ques- 
tion, and  to  remove  what  seems,  in  the  eye  of  reason  alone,  the 
absolute  inconsistency  between  the  ideas  of  subjection  and  free- 
dom. 

Now  change  the  supposition  a  little,  but  enough  to  conform  it 
to  the  real  state  of  the  case.  Imagine,  that,  instead  of  a  voice 
from  heaven  thus  constantly  proclaiming  to  us  the  will  of  the 
Supreme  Being,  enforced  by  all  the  outward  terrors  of  the  law 
given  from  Sinai,  the  injunction  should  constantly  be  repeated 
within  the  mind  itself,  in  a  manner  far  more  impressive  than  if  ■ 
it  were  accompanied  by  the  thunder  and  the  earthquake  from 
without.  Imasfine  that  the  order  thus  made  known  is  attended 
by  a  conception  —  that  of  duty  —  which  the  intellect  alone 
could  never  frame,  and  which  alone  can  reconcile  the  idea  of 
law  with  that  oi  liberty,  of  absolute  ohligation  witli  perfect  free- 
dom. Yet  this  imagining  is  but  a  plain  statement  of  the  func- 
tions of  conscience,  —  of  the  miracle,  so  to  speak^  which  is  con- 
stantly wrought  within  us,  in  order  that  we  may  perceive  that 
our  moral  freedom  is  compatible  with  our  subjection  to  the  Di-- 
vine  government.  I^emember  how  numerous  are  the  occasions 
on  which  this  idea  rises,  and  the  variety  of  applications  of  which 
it  is  susceptible.  It  colors  nearly  every  action  of  our  lives,  and 
modifies  every  judgment  that  we  can  form  of  the  conduct  of  our 
fellow-beings.  By  introducing  the  idea  of  a  law  of  paramount 
obligation,  and,  at  the  same  time,  removing  all  sliow  of  compul- 
sion oij  even  of  terror,  and  speaking  without  reference  either  to 
rewards  or  punishments,  it  first  makes  the  conception  of  virtue 
possible.     Far  from  negativing  the  freedom  of  the  will,  it  pre- 


THE   NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  313 

supposes  freedom,  —  it  is  not  compatible  with  any  condition  hut 
that  of  freedom,  — and  therefore  we  cannot  even  conceive  of  its 
application  to  brutes. 

3foral  good  implies  tJie  possibility  of  moral  evil.  —  All  virtue 
is  conformity  to  the  rule  thus  made  known  to  us,  and  all  vice  is 
departure  from  it.  It  is  demonstrable,  then,  that  moral  good 
flows  from  the  same  fountain  as  moral  evil,  and  that  the  one 
cannot  exist  without  the  possibility  of  the  other.  Why  is  it  that 
we  are  so  painfully  affected,  on  reviewing  the  liistory  of  man- 
kind, or  examining  into  their  present  condition  ?  It  is  because 
the  requisitions  of  conscience  are  so  high  and  pure,  and  in  judg- 
ing of  the  conduct  of  others,  at '  least,  it  is  so  natural  to  apply 
them,  that  we  almost  involuntarily  dwell  upon  the  examples  of 
transgression,  upon  the  amount  of  sin  and  consequent  woe  which 
is  in  the  world,  and  which  operates  to  divert  our  attention  from 
the  moral  good  of  which  these  evils  are  the  necessary  price,  and 
by  which  they  are  accompanied  and  I'edeemed.  It  is  only  to 
this  one-sided  view  that  the  prospect  seems  dark,  and  God's 
scheme  of  government  of  the  human  family  appears  one  of 
doubtful  wisdom  or  benevolence.  Why  not  dwell  rather  upon 
the  virtues  that  are  practised,  the  amount  of  good  that  is  ac- 
tually done,  and  then  admire  the  perfection  of  the  scheme  which 
renders  such  excellence  attainable  by  man  ?  It  is  true  that 
moral  excellence  is  not  usually  so  prominent,  or  so  Hkely  to  arrest  . 
the  attention  of  the  observer,  as  moral  delinquency  ;  for  great 
crimes  usually  announce  themselves  with  startling  effect,  and 
are  attended  by  a  long  train  ©f  disastrous  consequences,  which 
extend  and  deepen  the  impression ;  wliile  the  virtues  love  the 
shade,  and  the  good  which  flows  from  the  observance  of  them  is 
a  noiseless  stream.  But  if  we  judge  men  by  their  intentions  ^ 
leather  than  their  outward  conduct,  —  and  this  is  obviously  the 
only  correct  judgment,  — I  am  incUned  to  believe  that  the  law 
of  conscience  is  far  more  frequently  obeyed  than  violated.  The 
worst  man  that  ever  lived  is  still  conscious  at  times  of  noble  and 
virtuous  impulses,  and  in  his  own  view  pf  the  matter,  at  any 
rate,  if  not  in  that  of  his  neighbors,  his  conduct  often  conforms 
to  them.     A  conscious  transgression  of  the  most  obvious  prin- 

27 


314  THE   NATURE    OP   MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

ciples  of  rectitude  is  too  unnatural  and  too  painful  an  act  to  bo 
wantonly  or  frequently  repeated.  Certainly,  a  whole  life  of 
crime,  of  gratuitous  violence  and  wrong,  relieved  by  no  com- 
j)unctions,  and  unvaried  by  any  act  of  mercy,  truthfulness,  or 
justice,  is  so  monstrous  a  conception,  that  no  one  ever  expects 
to  see  it  realized. 

Why  evil  appears  prominent  in  history.  —  "  How  small,"  says 
Stewart,  "is  the  number  of  individuals  who  draw  the  atten- 
tion of  the  world  by  their  crimes,  when  compared  with  the  mill- 
ions who  pass  their  days  in  inoffensive  obscurity  !  Of  this  it  is 
scarcely  necessary  to  produce  any  other  proof,  than  the  fact 
which  is  commonly  urged  on  the  other  side  of  the  argument,  -— 
the  catalogue  of  crimes  and  calamities  which  sully  the  history 
of  past  ages.  For  whence  is  the  interest  we  take  in  historical 
reading,  but  from  the  singularity  of  the  events  it  records,  and 
from  the  contrast  which  its  glarmg  colors  present  to  the  uni- 
formity and  repose  of  private  life  ?  Even  in  those  unhappy 
periods  which  have  furnished  the  most  ample  materials  to  the 
historian,  the  storm  has  spent  its  rage  in  general  on  a  com- 
paratively small  number  of  men,  placed  in  the  more  conspicuous 
stations  of  society  by  their  birth,  bj  their  talents,  by  their  am- 
bition, or  by  an  heroical  sense  of  duty ;  while  the  unobserved 
multitude  saw  it  pass  over  their  head,  or  only  heai-d  its  noise  at 
a  distance.  Nor  must  we  pronounce  all  those  to  have  been  un- 
happy who  are  commonly  styled  the  unfortunate.  The  mind 
suits  itself  to  the  part  it  is  destined  to  act,  and,  when  great 
and  worthy  objects  are  before  it,  exults  in  those  moments  of 
hazard  and  alarm,  which,  even  while  they  threaten  life  and 
freedom,  leave  us  in  the  possession  of  every  thing  that  con- 
stitutes the  glory  and  the  perfection  of  our  nature." 

It  is  the  sensitiveness  of  our  moral  constitutio7i,  alive  to  the 
slightest  appearance  of  wrong,  and  painfully  affected  by  any 
manifestation  of  it  on  a  large  scale,  which  leads  us,  on  a  specu- 
lative view  of  the  subject,  to  exaggerate  the  amount  of  moral 
evil  in  the  world.  Far  from  being  a  defect,  this  sensitiveness 
should  be  accounted  an  excellence  in  our  moral  being,  as  it 
shows  how  strong  is  our  appreciation  of  the  authority  of  con- 


THE    NATURE    OF   MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  315 

science,  how  wide  a  field  in  our  view  is  covered  by  its  com- 
mands, and  how  quick  is  our  perception  of  any  case  in  which 
these  commands  are  violated.  Thus,  as  Butler  finely  remarks, 
the  judgments  which  men  form  of  each  other  tend  to  carry  out 
the  purposes  of  the  Almighty,  by  constituting  a  part  of  the  pun- 
ishment which  he  has  appointed  for  every  transgression.  They 
enter  into  the  scheme  of  Divine  government,  which,  even  as 
manifested  in  the  history  of  om-  race,  is  far  more  direct,  com- 
prehensive, and  searching  than  most  persons  imagine.  A  little 
reflection  wdll  convince  them,  that  they  have  greatly  underrated 
the  number  and  minuteness  of  the  occasions  in  which  the  moral 
faculty  is  called  into  exercise,  and  really  determines  the  conduct 
even  of  the  worst  of  men. 

The  incessant  and  universal  activity  of  conscience.  —  The 
institution  of  property,  for  instance,  is  founded  entirely  on  our 
sense  of  justice,  which  is  correctly  defined  to  be  "  the  constant 
intention  to  give  to  every  man  that  which  is  rightfully  his  own." 
He  who  voluntarily  deprives  himself  of  any  thing  which  seems 
to  him  at  all  valuable  or  desirable,  for  the  mere  purpose  of 
restoring  it  to  another  who  has  a  better  claim  to  it,  or  who  even 
abstains  from  the  attempt  to  seize  and  appropriate  it  when  it  is 
in  the  possession  of  its  rightful  owner,  is  so  far  actuated  by 
the  feeling  of  justice,  or  is  obedient  to  that  injunction  of  the 
Almighty  which  is  manifested  through  the  conscience.  Now,  no 
naiion  has  ever  been  discovered  on  the  earth,  so  low  and  brutal 
in  their  inclinations  and  habits,  so  destitute  of  any  idea  of 
right,  that  the  institution  of  property,  to  a  greater  or  less  extent, 
does  not  exist  among  them.  The  right  of  the  savage  to  the 
tools  and  weapons  which  his  own  hand  has  fashioned,  and  to 
the  game  which  he  has  caught,  is  universally  respected  by  his 
fellows ;  or  if  this  original  title  is  ever  violated,  it  is  from  some 
rude  notion  of  government,  or  authority  in  the  head  of  the 
tribe,  or  punishment  inflicted  for  some  offence,  at  the  bottom  of 
which  notion,  also,  lies  the  feeling  of  right,  as  distinct  as  in  the 
case  of  original  ownership.  That  the  property  continues  in  the 
possession  of  the  owner,  is  owing  only  to  a  constant  exercise  of 
self-denial  on  the  part  of  those  who  have  it  not  and  still  desire 


316  THE   NATURE    OF   MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

it ;  thus  showing  that  the  sense  of  rectitude  is,  to  this  extent  at 
least,  a  permanent  and  effective  rule  of  conduct.  The  familiar 
proverb,  thut  there  is  honesty  even  among  tliieves,  at  any  rate  m 
theii'  treatment  of  their  fellows,  proves  that  this  remark  holds 
true  even  of  those  who  are  commonly  supposed  to  live  in  open 
defiance  of  every  law,  both  human  and  Divine.  Now  a  single 
instance  of  robbery  on  a  great  scale,  by  the  general  indignation 
tliat  it  creates,  occupies  a  larger  space  in  the  minds  and  mem- 
ories of  men,  than  all  this  continuous  observance  of  the  rule. 

If  any  doubt  remains  as  to  the  entire  dependence  of  this 
institution  on  our  primitive  and  habitual  regai'd  for  law,  it  will 
be  removed  by  a  glance  at  the  brute  creation.  The  lower  ani- 
mals have  not  even  an  mstinct  which  leads  to  restitution ;  the 
power  of  the  strongest  is,  with  them,  the  only  law.  The  hungry 
mastiff  wrests  the  bone  from  his  feebler  companion,  and  blind 
appetite  or  fear  alone  guides  the  more  ferocious  beasts  in  the 
appropriation  of  their  food.  The  mother-bird,  indeed,  stints  its 
own  appetite  for  the  benefit  of  its  young;  but  this  is  only  from 
the  strong  impulse  of  natural  affection,  which  is  as  blind  and 
unreasoning  in  the  brute  as  in  the  human  heart.  The  constant 
respect  for  property,  then,  proves  the  universality  and  ceaseless 
operation  of  the  moral  nature  of  man. 

Distinction  between  absolute  and  relative  right.  —  It  is  obvious 
that  this  argument  for  the  constancy  and  immediateness  of  the 
moral  government  of  God  applies  with  the  greater  force,  in 
proportion  to  the  culture  which  our  moral  perceptions  have 
received.  I  have  already  hinted,  that  bad  men  are  not  so  bad 
as  they  seem ;  and  one  reason  why  they  are  not,  is,  that  they 
look  at  their  own  conduct  from  a  different  point  of  view  from 
that  which  is  taken  by  the  bystanders.  A  good  deal  of  the 
disorder  and  injustice  which  we  see,  does  not  demonstrate  any 
ill  intention  on  the  part  of  its  authors ;  nay,  it  often  proceeds 
from  an  uncultivated  or  misdirected  sense  of  duty,  and  is  so  far 
meritorious.  We  must  distinguish  carefully  between  absolute 
and  relative  right.  "  An  action  is  said  to  be  absolutely  right," 
says  Dugald  Stewart,  "  when  it  is  in  every  respect  suitable  to 
the  circumstances  in  which  the  agent  is  placed ;  or,  in  other 


THE   NATURE    OF   MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  317 

words,  when  it  is  such  as,  with  perfectly  good  intentions,  un- 
der the  guidance  of  an  enlightened  and  well-informed  under- 
standing, he  would  have  pei'fbrmed.  An  action  is  said  to  be 
relatively  right,  when  the  intentions  of  the  agent  are  sincerely 
good,  whether  his  conduct  be  suitable  to  his  circumstances  or 
not.  According  to  tliesc  definitions,  it  is  evident,  that  an  action 
may  be  right  in  one  sense,  and  wrong  in  another ;  and  it  is  no 
less  evident,  that  it  is  the  relative  rectitude  alone  of  an  action, 
which  determines  the  moral  desert  of  the  agent  in  the  sight  of 
God  and  of  his  own  conscience." 

Conscience  gives  us  the  conception  of  duty,  or  feeling  of  ob- 
ligation, but  does  not  apply  this  feehng  to  outward  conduct.  Its 
sphere  of  action  is  wholly  internal,  motives  and  intentions  being 
its  only  subjects ;  what  course  of  conduct  will  best  carry  out 
these  intentions,  is  a  question,  not  for  the  moral  faculty,  but  for 
the  intellect,  to  answer ;  and  the  uninformed  or  perverted  un- 
derstanding may  answer  it  very  ill.  Thus,  conscience  approves 
and  enjoins  justice,  benevolence,  veracity,  which  is  a  form  of 
justice,  and  patriotism,  which  is  a  department  of  benevolence  ; 
it  even  pronounces  upon  the  relative  claims  of  these  virtues  to 
observance,  though  not  so  distinctly,  afiirming  that  justice  is  of 
higher  obligation  than  benevolence.  But  what  conduct,  what 
outward  acts,  will  be  truly  just,  or  truly  benevolent,  or  whether  a 
patriotic  intention  will  justify  cunning  words  or  harsh  deeds,  are 
doubts  of  which  it  furnishes  no  solution.  Reason  must  here  be 
our  guide.  The  train  of  consequences,  some  of  them  very  re- 
mote, which  every  action  carries  with  it,  must  be  foreseen  and 
estimated,  —  a  work  for  the  understanding,  —  before  these  ques- 
tions can  be  answered.  Our  moral  sense,  which  is  infallible  in 
its  sphere,  only  declares  that  an  action  is  just  to  him  who  intends 
it  for  justice  ;  and  to  him  who  thinks  a  certain  deed  is  benevo- 
lent, to  him  it  shall  be  accounted  for  benevolence.  Apply  these 
principles  to  history,  and  to  our  common  observation  of  man- 
kind, and  much  of  what  we  are  accustomed  to  consider  as  evi- 
dence of  the  depravity  and  wickedness  of  the  huma,n  race  dis- 
appears altogether ;  nay,  if  fully  considered,  it  affords  proof  of 

27* 


318  THE    NATURE    OF    MOllAL    GOVERNMENT. 

the  existence  of  high  viilues  among  men,  for  the  action,  in  the 
case  considered,  becomes  not  only  innocent,  but  meritorious. 

This  distinction  illiLstrated.  —  Take  war,  for  instance.  To 
one  who  reads  history  in  a  proper  spirit,  there  is  probably 
nothing  so  painful  as  the  almost  continuous  record  which  it  af- 
fords of  the  bloodshed,  misery,  and  corruption  caused  by  this 
brutal  and  detestable  practice.  War  is,  indeed,  "  the  garment 
of  vengeance  with  which  the  Deity  arrays  himself,  when  he 
comes  forth  to  punish  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth."  Looking 
at  it  from  a  distance,  in  the  light  of  a  calm  philosophy,  no  less 
than  of  a  pure  morality,  ^ve  are  tempted  to  believe  that  it  must 
be  waged  by  demons  rather  than  by  men,  and  that  its  mo- 
tives are  as  bad  as  its  consequences  are  afflicting.  The  lan- 
guage of  Robert  Hall  seems  hardly  exaggerated,  when  he  says, 
that  "  the  plague  of  a  widely  extended  war  possesses,  in  fact,  a 
sort  of  omnipresence,  by  wliich  it  makes  itself  everywhere  felt ; 
for  while  it  gives  up  myriads  to  slaughter  in  one  part  of  the 
globe,  it  is  busily  employed  in  scattering  over  countries  exempt 
from  its  immediate  desolations  the  seeds  of  famine,  pestilence, 

and  death While  the  philanthropist  is  devising  means 

to  mitigate  the  evils  and  augment  the  happiness  of  the  world,  a 
fellow-worker  together  with  God,  in  exploring  and  giving  effect 
to  the  benevolent  tendencies  of  nature,  the  warrior  is  revolving, 
in  the  gloomy  recesses  of  his  capacious  mind,  plans  of  future 
devastation  and  ruin.  Prisons  crowded  with  captives,  cities 
emptied  of  their  inhabitants,  fields  desolate  and  waste,  are  among 
his  proudest  trophies.  The  fabric  of  his  fame  is  cemented  with 
tears  and  blood ;  and  if  liis  name  is  wafted  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth,  it  is  in  the  shrill  cry  of  suffering  humanity,  in  the  curses 
and  imprecations  of  those  whom  his  sword  has  reduced  to  de- 
spair.'* 

The  picture  is  indeed  a  tenible  one,  though  but  few  will  think 
it  is  overdrawn.  Yet  the  truth,  I  suppose,  unquestionably  is, 
that  almost  every  person  concerned  in  war,  whether  an  originator 
of  the  strife  or  an  actor  in  it,  is  either  actuated,  or,  what  amounts 
to  the  same  thing  in  the  light  in  which  we  are  now  viewing  the 
matter y  believes  himself  to  he  actuated,  hy  the  highest  and  holiest 


THE    NATURE    OP    MORAL    GOVERNMENT.  319 

motives.  .The  statesman  thinks  that  the  welfare  and  honor  of 
his  country  are  at  stalie,  and  that  it  is  his  stern  duty  to  stifle  his 
feehngs  of  compassion  for  the  multitude,  and  to  punish  aggres- 
sion, arrogance,  and  injustice,  even  at  the  expense  of  a  long  and 
bloody  conflict.  The  military  chieftain  feels  that  the  safety  and 
honor  of  his  troops  depend  upon  his  courage  and  conduct,  and 
that  he  acts  under  an  awful  responsibility  to  the  rightful  gov- 
ernment of  his  country,  which  has  confided  this  awful  mission  to 
his  hands  ;  it  may  be,  that  he  goes  to  a  hopeless  contest,  and 
then  the  feelings  which  support  the  martyr  at  the  stake  are 
hardly  superior  to  his.  Hence  the  strange  contradiction,  as  it 
seems,  of  which  history  affords  more  than  one  instance,  that  a 
commander,  on  the  morning  after  he  had  achieved  a  great  vic- 
tory, should  be  found  weeping  like  a  child  over  the  spectacle 
that  the  field  afibrded  of  suffering  and  death  which  his  own 
hand  had  caused.  Lord  Collingwood  was  one  of  the  most  high- 
minded,  pure,  affectionate,  and  strictly  moral  men  of  whom  the 
British  peerage  can  boast ;  yet  this  man  commanded  the  ship 
which  fired  the  first  English  gun  in  the  sanguinary  naval  con- 
flict of  Trafalgar.  The  common  soldier  is  ignorant  and  brutal, 
most  likely  ;  but  he,  too,  in  the  moment  of  action,  has  learned 
to  suppress  all  other  feelings  at  the  mandate  of  duty,  —  the 
duty  on  which  every  thing  then  depends,  that  of  implicit  sub- 
mission to  his  superiors.  It  would  be  a  strange  paradox  to 
say,  that  a  camp  is  a  nursery  of  lofty  and  stern  virtues  ;  yet  it 
certainly  does  foster  a  chivalrous  exaltation  of  feeling,  which 
reason,  indeed,  condemns,  as  an  impure  mixture  of  false  senti- 
ment with  an  austere  regard  for  duty,  but  which  has  so  much 
of  the  moral  element  in  it,  that  it  cannot  be  harshly  reprobated. 
I  am  not  palliating  the  evils  of  war  ;  God  forbid  that  I  should 
say  one  word,  to  make  any  human  being  look  upon  the  practice 
of  it  with  less  horror  and  detestation  than  he  now  feels  !  I  am 
only  suggesting  some  reasons  why  it  should  not  make  us  think  so 
badly  of  our  fellow  beings,  as  to  doubt  whether  they  are  under 
the  moral  government  of  God.  If  the  distinctions  here  sug- 
gested do  not  tend  at  all  to  abate  the  severity  of  our  condemna- 
tion of  immoral  practices,  but  only  to  render  our  feelings  more 


320  THE   NATURE    OF    MORAL    GOVERNMENT. 

charitable  and  just  towards  those  who  are  engaged  in  them, 
they  may  well  be  kept  in  mind  even  by  the  professed  philan- 
thropists. The  spirit  of  our  religion  certainly  requires  us  to 
hate  sin,  but  holds  up  the  sinner  to  us  as  an  object  of  compas- 
sion, kindness,  and  love. 

Conclusions  respecting  the  moral  government  of  God.  —  I  have 
not  intended  in  this  chapter  even  to  approach  the  great  problem 
of  the  origin  of  evil ;  that  remains  for  subsequent  consideration. 
I  have  only  ^\^shed  to  show,  that,  in  the  moral  constitution  of 
man,  there  is  the  plainest  proof,  not  only  that  we  live  under  the 
immediate  government  of  God,  but  that  this  government  is 
effectual,  the  results  produced  being  commensurate  with  the 
means  employed.  Not  only  is  the  will  of  God  made  known  to 
us,  at  every  moment  of  our  lives,  as  the  absolute  rule  of  our 
conduct,  the  supreme  law ;  but  the  announcement  of  this  law  is 
made  compatible  with  human  freedom,  and  the  law  itself  is 
practically  recognized  and  observed,  to  a  greater  or  less  extent, 
by  every  human  being.  Human  government,  the  direction  and 
control  of  organized  societies  of  men,  rest  upon  this  Divine  gov- 
ernment, and  would'  not  be  practicable  without  it.  Property,  as 
we  have  seen,  is  supported  in  the  same  manner.  The  law  of 
God,  promulgated  through  the  conscience,  and  acknowledged 
both  by  the  savage  and  by  civilized  man  as  supreme,  exerts  an 
influence  that  no  man  can  measure  over  the  life  of  every  indi- 
vidual ;  it  forms  the  basis  of  those  institutions  which  are  essen- 
tial to  the  very  existence  of  society ;  it  sways  the  councils  of 
nations ;  it  governs  the  course  of  human  affairs. 

And  the  means  by  which  these  great  ends  are  accomplished 
—  especially  the  manner  in  which  we  are  perpetually  reminded 
of  the  Divine  command,  as  if  by  a  voice  from  heaven,  and  the 
mode  of  reconciling  liberty  with  law  —  are  as  beautiful  instances 
of  contrivance,  they  furnish  quite  as  striking  indications  of 
Divine  wisdom  and  goodness,  as  any  which  the  material  uni- 
verse affords. 


THE    CONTENTS    OF    THE    MORAL    LAW.  321 


CHAPTER     V. 

THE  CONTENTS  OF  THE  MORAL  LAW  A  REVELATION  OF  THE 
CHARACTER  OF  THE  DEITY:  THE  ENFORCEMENT  OF  THE 
MORAL  LAW. 

Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  I  attempted  to  prove,  in  the 
last  chapter,  that  the  moral  constitution  of  man  affords  direct 
and  iiTefragable  evidence,  that  he  is  under  the  constant  and  im- 
mediate government  of  God.  That  the  pleasures  and  pains 
which  we  experience  in  this  life,  and  which  proceed  from  regu- 
lar and  determinable  causes,  and  therefore  may  be  foreseen  by 
us,  may  properly  be  regarded  as  rewards  and  punishments,  indi- 
cating to  us  the  will  of  the  Deity  that  we  should  perform  cer- 
tain actions  and  abstain  from  others,  is  another  argument  tend- 
ing  to  the  same  conclusion ;  but  it  does  not  seem  to  me  so 
complete  and  satisfactory  as  the  former  one.  Conscience  an- 
nounces to  us  a  law  of  absolute  authority  for  the  guidance  of 
our  hearts  and  lives ;  its  monitions  are  frequent,  if  not  inces- 
sant, and  the  obligation  which  it  unposes  is  recognized,  whether 
we  will  or  no,  to  be  supreme.  At  the  same  time,  it  does  not 
compel  or  force  obedience,  so  that  the  liberty  of  the  will  is  not 
infringed,  but  government  is  made  compatible  with  freedom. 
This  idea  of  pure  and  absolute  obligation,  or  the  sense  of  duty 
as  such,  as  distinguished  from  compulsion  on  the  one  hand,  and 
from  a  perfectly  unregulated  and  ungoverned  will  on  the  other, 
is  one  which  the  intellect  alone  could  never  frame,  and  it  does 
away  with  the  apparent  contradiction  between  liberty  and  law. 
Here,  I  observed,  is  contrivance,  the  indication  of  purpose,  in 
the  moral  nature  of  man,  just  as  visible  as  in  the  curious  phys- 
ical apparatus  by  which  we  see,  and  just  as  clearly  indicative 
of  the  intention  of  the  Creator.  The  law  thus  revealed  to  us  is 
His  law  who  reveals  it     If  the  fashioning  of  our  bodies  — 


322  THE    CONTENTS    OF    THE    MORAL    LAW. 

these  wonderful  but  perishable  tenements  of  clay  that  we  inhabit 
for  a  season  —  shows  the  wisdom  and  the  purposes  of  Him  who 
made  them,  how  much  more  does  the  framework  of  our  intel- 
lectual and,  moral  being  testify  to  the  same  effect!  This  is 
equally  His  contrivance,  His  work.  It  is  not  more  evident  that 
the  ear  was  made  to  hear  with,  or  the  organs  of  voice  to  speak, 
or  the  lungs  to  breathe,  than  that  the  law  proclaimed  by  conscience 
should  be  obeyed  as  His  will ;  otherwise,  the  moral  faculty  is 
constituted  in  vain,  and  exists  for  no  conceivable  purpose. 

This  scheme  of  government,  I  remarked,  is  both  comprehen- 
sive and  minute  ;  it  assumes  to  regulate  every  purpose  of  the 
heart,  and  to  mould  the  whole  life  and  character.  And  it  is 
effectual ;  the  purpose  which  is  indicated  by  this  endowment  of 
the  mind  with  the  power  of  distinguishing  right  from  wrong,  is 
carried  out  and  realized  to  the  fullest  extent  that  is  consistent 
with  individual  liberty.  The  conduct  even  of  the  vicious  and 
the  profligate,  of  the  savage  as  well  as  the  civilized  man,  is 
daily  and  hourly  influenced  by  the  law  written  on  the  heart. 
Society  itself  cou^  not  exist  without  it,  as  its  most  important 
institutions,  government  and  property,  recognize  it,  and  are,  in 
fact,  supported  by  it.  Through  the  sensitiveness  of  our  moral 
nature,  I  endeavored  to  show,  we  are  prone  to  exaggerate  the 
moral  disorder  and  depravity  which  are  in  the  world  and  are 
revealed  in  history.  If  we  judge  men  by  their  intentions,  in- 
stead of  their  outward  conduct,  —  and  it  is  the  former  alone 
which  the  plan  of  Divine  government  assumes  directly  to  regu- 
late, —  much  of  their  seeming  lawlessness  and  wickedness  dis- 
appears. Even  war,  that  great  scourge  of  the  human  family, 
is  carried  on,  by  most  of  those  who  are  engaged  in  it,  with  a 
high  moral  purpose,  —  misdirected,  it  is  true,  but  pure.  I  am 
well  aware  that  this  explanation  leaves  the  ignorance  of  men, 
and  the  blinding  power  of  their  passions,  as  evils  still  to  be 
accounted  for ;  these  remain  for  subsequent  discussion.  At 
present,  I  am  only  concerned  to  show,  that  there  is  a  Divine 
government,  —  not  that  it  is  a  perfect  government. 

The  contents  of  the  moral  law.  —  So  we  have  not  considered 
as  yet,  except  incidentally,  the  purport  or  contents  of  the  law 


THE    CONTENTS    OF    THE    MORAL    LAW.  323 

which  is  revealed  in  the  conscience ;  the  mere  existence  of  sucli 
a  law,  and  its  claim  of  absolute  supremacy,  with  the  fact  that  it 
is  recognized  and  acted  upon,  being  the  only  points  upon  which 
stress  has  been  laid.  We  have  now  to  consider  what  the  law 
enjoins.  The  very  brief  answer  may  be  given,  that  it  requires 
of  us  a  pure  heart  and  a  virtuous  life  ;  all  that  is  comprehended 
under  these  phrases  being  entitled  to  the  name  of  purity  or 
virtue,  only  because  it  is  required  by  conscience.  Disinterest- 
edness is  included  ;  for  the  most  obvious  characteristic  of  the 
voice  of  conscience  is,  that  it  is  to  be  obeyed  at  all  hazards. 
The  obligation  is  perfect ;  no  matter  by  what  sacrifice,  I  must 
render  to  another  that  which  is  his  own,  and  my  word  must  be 
kept.  And  as  no  fear  or  hope  with  regard  to  the  consequences 
of  the  act  upon  my  own  welfare  should  tempt  me  to  wrong-do- 
ing, so  they  ought  not  to  be  my  reasons  for  following  the  right. 
Virtue  7nust  he  cidtivated  for  its  own  sake  ;  otherwise,  it  is  not 
virtue,  but  selfishness.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  that  the 
law  is  so  watchful  and  exacting,  that  it  descends  to  tli  ^  secrets 
of  the  heart,  and  declares  what  the  purpose  shall  be,  befwe  that 
purpose  is  realized  in  the  act;  this  is  the  primary  function  of 
the  conscience.  The  immediate  object  of  the  law,  as  already 
observed,  is  not  conduct,  hut  the  intention  which  regulates  the 
conduct.  And  all  these  points  in  the  law  are  rendered  so  plain 
and  familiar,  even  to  the  uninstructed,  that  in  enlarging  upon 
them,  I  must  appear  to  you  to  be  dwelUng  upon  mere  truisms. 
It  is  only  when  we  come  to  reflect  upon  the  marvellous  consti- 
tution of  our  bodies  and  minds,  considered  as  the  work  of  the 
Almighty,  and  as  indicating  his  will,  that  these  worn  truths  re- 
assume  freshness  and  interest.  At  other  times,  we  take  them 
for  granted,  and  intend  to  act  upon  them. 

Wh^s^irtu^s  enjoined.  —  The  question  may  now  be  asked, 
Why  is  it  "that  we  are  enjoined  to  cultivate  such  dispositions  of 
mind,  or  to  act  upon  such  intentions,  in  preference  to  all  others  ? 
In  one  sense,  the  answer  has  been  already  given ;  it  is  because 
we  have  an  intuitive  knowledge*  that  virtue  is  of  paramount  ob- 
ligation, or  absolutely  binding  for  its  own  sake,  so  that  to  inquire, 
wh?/  it  is  obligatory,  is  just  as  much  an  impertinence  as  it  would 


324  THE    CONTENTS    OF    TUE    MORAL    LAW. 

"be  to  ask,  wJiy  two  luul  two  make  four.  The  axioms  of  morals 
stand  on  the  same  basis  with  the  axioms  of  mathematics  ;  they 
cannot  be  pi'oved  because  they  need  no  proof;  they  are  self- 
evident.  But  as  we  are  here  considering  the  subject  in  refer- 
ence to  the  Divine  government  and  the  character  of  God,  I  put 
the  question  in  a  little  different  form :  —  Why  has  the  Deity  so 
constituted  our  minds  thai  ive  must  perceive  the  supreme  obliga- 
tion of  virtue  ?  If  it  was  not  His  will  alone  wdiich  established 
the  moral  law,  it  was  certainly  His  will  which  gave  us  the 
power  or  faculty  of  perceiving  that  law  and  its  absolute  obliga- 
tion, and  thereby  of  distinguishing  right  from  wrong.  He 
might  have  constituted  us  like  the  lower  animals,  who  have  no 
knowledge  of  it  whatever.  Why  did  he  impart  that  knowl- 
edge to  us  ?  or,  in  other  words,  why  has  he  given  to  man  a  con- 
science ? 

Conscience  not  needed  for  the  preservation  of  life.  —  Certainly, 
not  for  the  same  reason  for  which  we  are  endowed  wdth  appe- 
tites ;  these  were  intended  to  stimulate  us  to  the  exertions  that 
are  requisite  before  the  wants  of  the  body  can  be  supplied. 
Without  hunger,  we  should  forget  or  neglect  to  eat,  just  as  we 
now  omit  many  precautions  and  exercises  which  are  really  im- 
portant for  the  preservation  of  health,  though  not,  like  food, 
absolutely  essential  to  life.  But  conscience  is  not  essential  for 
the  preservation  of  animal  Hfe ;  like  the  brutes,  we  might  get 
along  without  it ;  that  is,  we  might  preserve  a  merely  animal 
existence.  So  one  use  of  intellect  —  a  lower  use,  but  yet  a 
sufficient  reason  for  implanting  the  faculty  in  man  —  is  to  direct 
those  exertions  to  which  we  are  stimulated  by  the  appetites 
and  desires,  or  to  discover  appropriate  means  for  those  ends 
which  are  pointed  out  to  us  by  our  physical  constitution.  In 
this  respect,  reason  takes  the  place  in  man  of  instinct  in  the 
brute  creation.  But  a  sense  of  duty  is  not  needed  for  the  per- 
formance of  this  office,  so  that  we  still  ask,  why  we  were  gifted 
with  this  sense.  The  manifold  arrangements  and  beautiful 
contrivances,  with  which  the  purely  material  universe  abounds, 
all  subserve  important  ends,  and  in  these  ends  we  read  the  pur- 
poses of  their  Contriver.     Each  has  its  part  to  play  in  uphold- 


THE    CONTENTS    OF    THE    MORAL    LAW.  325 

ing  the  fabric  of  that  universe  of  which  it  is  a  portion,  and  we 
know  that  it  was  designed  to  fill  that  part.  But  the  law  of  right, 
with  the  consciousness  of  it  which  animates  every  human  breast, 
has  no  such  function  to  perform.  Earth's  base  is  not  built  upon 
it ;  nor  does  it  form  the  pillars  which  support  the  material  fir- 
mament. The  outer  world  might  exist  without  it,  as  the  geolo- 
gists tell  us  it  did,  for  ages  before  it  was  tenanted  by  man.  The 
laws  of  gravitation,  chemical  affinity,  and  the  like,  —  if  I  may 
adopt  for  a  moment  the  phraseology  of  a  theory  which  I  repu- 
diate, —  all  work  to  visible  and  highly  useful  ends  ;  —  Does  the 
law  of  morality  alone  answer  no  purpose  in  the  universe  which 
God  has  made  ? 

Conscience  overrules  all  considerations  of  utility.  —  The  ques- 
tion becomes  still  more  striking,  when  we  remember  that  con- 
science not  only  is  not  needed  for  any  of  the  offices  which  we 
have  thus  far  considered,  but  that  it  absolutely  precludes  all 
reference  to  them,  when  their  performance  would  come  in  conflict 
with  any  of  its  own  absolute  commands.  The  call  of  duty  must 
be  obeyed,  though  the  appetites  should  remain  without  their 
appropriate  food,  and  the  desires  should  languish,  and  the  intel- 
lect should  forget  its  cunning ;  the  demands  of  justice  must  be 
satisfied,  though  the  body  should  perish,  and  even  though  the 
heavens  should  fall.  And  this  peculiarity  in  the  law  of  con- 
science enables  us  to  prove,  that  one  beneficial  result,  which 
actually  is  accomplished  by  implanting  this  faculty  in  man,  still 
does  not  reveal  the  reason  or  purpose  for  which  it  was  so  im- 
planted. The  law  does  conduce  to  the  welfare  of  society^  which 
probably  could  not  even  exist  without  it.  That  state  of  things 
which  Hobbes  imagined  and  described  with  so  much  graphic 
power,  as  the  natural  state  of  man,  unquestionably  would  be  his 
natural  state,  if,  as  Hobbes  supposed,  his  desires  and  actions 
were  not  controlled  by  any  innate  sense  of  right.  Every  man 
would  be  the  natural  enemy  of  his  fellow,  the  passions  and  ap- 
petites stimulating  him  to  grasp  at  every  thing  which  pleased 
his  senses,  or  promised  future  enjoyment,  without  regard  to  any 
principle  of  ownership,  and  without  consciousness  of  any  law, 
whether  human  or  Divine,  which  forbade  robbery  or  unpro- 

28 


326  THE    CONTENTS    OF    THE    MORAL    LA^T. 


voked  aggression.  Man  \rou\d  be  a  solitary  and  purely  selfish 
animal,  never  meeting  even  his  nearest  relative  except  in  a 
stnio-n-le  to  wrest  from  liim  any  valuable  which  his  strength  or 
ingenuity  had  created.  There  could  be  "no  arts,  no  letters,  no 
society ;  and  the  life  of  man  [would  be]  solitary,  poor,  nasty, 
brutish,  and  short." 

But  conscience  furnishes  that  restraining  and  regulating  force 
Avhich  Ilobbes  could  find  only  in  a  wise  despotism.  The  feel- 
ing of  moral  obligation  introduces  order  into  this  chaos.  The 
individual  voluntarily  submits  to  the  ordinances  of  society  de- 
creed and  enforced  for  the  common  good,  because  the  sense  of 
duty,  the  idea  of  submission  to  law  and  right,  is  inwoven  in  his 
constitution.  He  becomes  capable  of  human  government, 
because  Divine  government  is  established  in  his  own  bosom. 
And  as  society  in  this  way  first  becomes  practicable,  so  its  wel- 
fare is  promoted  just  in  proportion  to  the  prevalence  of  the 
sense  of  right  among  its  members.  If  the  practice  of  virtue 
were  universal,  if  men  acted  up  to  their  own  convictions  of 
duty,  there  would  be  no  need  of  human  legislation,  or  of  any 
external  apparatus  for  the  government  of  man. 
■  V.  Vh'tue  not  enjoined Jor  the  sake  of  its  m^ward  henejicial  con- 
sequences. —  Still,  I  say,  the  gi-eat  good  thus  effected  is  not  the 
object  for  which  the  practice  of  virtue  is  enjoined.  Conscience 
itself  informs  us  that  it  is  not ;  far  from  laying  down  the  rule 
because  its  observance  would  be  beneficial  to  society,  it  erects 
the  rule  itself  into  a  standard  to  which  our  regard  for  the  wel- 
fare, the  material  w^ell-being,  of  the  community  must  conform. 
Justice  must  be  enforced,  though  the  commonwealth  should  suf- 
fer for  it.  Though  the  pride  of  the  state  should  be  humiliated, 
and  its  power  be  diminished,  and  its  prosperity  should  receive  a 
1  eal  or  a  seeming  cheek,  the  law  of  right  must  be  obeyed.  It 
must  have  absolute  sway  and  masterdom,  for  in  this  light  alone 
it  is  revealed  to  us.  Virtue  is  an  end,  never  a  means  ;  and,  of 
course,  the  end  can  nerer  become  subservient  to  the  means. 
Instead  of  saying,  therefore,  that  the  moral  law  was  enacted  for 
the  benefit  of  society,  in  order  that  men  might  live  peace^ 
ably  and  profitably  together,  it  would  be  more  proper  to  affirm, 


THE    CONTENTS    OF    THE    MOEAL    LAW.  327 

that,  SO  far  as  we  can  see  info  the  designs  of  Providence,  soci- 
ety itself  was  intended  to  he  only  the  occasion  and  the  theatre  for 
the  display  and  development  of  this  law,  in  order  that  the  virtues 
which  it  enjoins  might  have  scope  and  objects  on  which  they 
might  be  exercised.  The  good  .  which  the  community  reaj^s  . 
from  the  cuUivation  of  virtue,  is,  therefore,  an  incidental  advan- 
tage of  the  law,  not  the  great  purpose  for  which  it  was  or- 
dained. 

The  law  ofcqnscimce.  reveals  the  character  of  the  Creator.- — 
Finding,  then,  that  no  object  or  purpose,  inferior  in  dignity  and 
excellence  to  the  law  of  rectitude  itself,  affords  any  sufficient 
reason  why  that  law  was  engraved  on  the  human  soul,  we  are 
compelled  to  admit,  that  the  contents  of  the  law  are  simply  a 
revelation  of  the  character  of  the  Creator.  Absolute  rectitude 
or  holiness  is  His  will,  because  it  is  His  nature,  and  the  law  which 
requires  it  is  a  reflection  of  that  nature.  In  its  purity  and  com- 
prehensiveness, in  its  primary  reference  to  character  rather 
than  conduct,  in  governing  the  affections  and  motives  whence  the 
acts  proceed,  rather  than  the  acts  themselves,  and  in  its  claim  to 
absolute  dominion  and  supremacy,  excluding  even  the  idea  of 
subserviency  to  lower  ends,  the  law  images  to  us  the  perfec- 
tions of  Him  from  whom  we  received  it. 

Thus,  by  the  way  of  observation  and  experience,  we  arrive 
at  that  conclusion  respecting  the  moral  attributes  of  the  Al- 
mighty, which  is  usually  obtained  deductively,  or  by  necessary 
inference  from  his  eternal  and  uncaused  duration.  This  course 
is  most  satisfactory  to  my  own  mind,  because  it  does  not  leave 
lis  to  reconcile  as  we  may  the  unlimited  conclusions  of  a  priori 
reasoning  with  the  subsequent  lessons  of  experience ;  but  the 
doctrine  carries  its  own  justification  along  with  it,  and  harmo- 
nizes with  all  which  we  have  previously  learned  from  the 
study  of  external  nature,  and  of  our  own  intellectual  and  moral 
being. 

Conscience  requires  perfection.  —  It  is  unnecessary  here  to 
cattry  out  the  reasoning  in  detail,  and  deduce  the  moral  attri- 
butes of  God,  one  by  one,  from  the  requisitions  of  our  moral  na- 
ture.    This  application  of  the  argument  is  sufficiently  easy  and 


328  THE    MORAL    LAW    KNFORCED. 

ob\'ious.  We  need  only  remark,  that  these  7-eqidsttions  are  itn- 
llmited.  Every  virtue,  every  trait  oi'  character,  that  is  to  be 
cultivated  at  all,  is  enjoined  to  it,s  utmost  extent,  perfection  be- 
ing the  only  standard  that  is  placed  before  us.  It  is  not  a  cer- 
tain measure  of  justice  that  we  are  required  to  render  towards 
our  fellow-beings,  but  absolute  justice,  to  all  men,  and  on  all 
occasions.  We  have  proof,  then,  that  the  moral  attributes  of 
the  Almighty  exist  each  in  its  perfection ;  in  Him  are  absolute 
justice,  purity,  truth,  and  love. 

How  far  the  natural  course  of  events  enforces  the  law  of  right. 
—  It  only  remains  to  inquire,  if  the  evidence  from  without  tends 
to  strengthen  and  confirm  that  belief  in  the  moral  government 
of  God,  which  is  founded  primarily  upon  the  internal  constitu- 
tion of  our  faculties  ;  —  in  other  words,  if  the  natural  course  of 
things  in  the  external  world,  the  ordinary  tendencies  of  human 
affairs,  harmonize  with  and  enforce  those  laws  which  are  set 
up  in  the  conscience.  As  both  the  inner  and  the  outer  world 
are  under  the  guidance  of  the  same  wise  and  omnipotent  Being, 
we  naturally  expect  that  the  testimonies  of  the  two  will  coin- 
cide, or  that  the  principles  established  in  the  one  will  be,  to  a 
great  extent,  or  in  all  their  main  features,  carried  out  in  the 
other.  I  say,  "  to  a  great  extent ; "  because  we  do  not  look,  in 
the  current  of  human  fortunes,  jTor  that  iimtiediate  and  invariable 
enforcement  of  the  moral  law,  which  would  either  deprive  man 
of  his  free  agency,  or  reduce  his  virtue  to  a  mere  selfish  regard 
for  his  own  happiness.  If,  for  instance,  honesty  were  the  best 
policy,  not  merely  as  a  general  principle,  and  in  '  the  long  run, 
but  always,  instantly,  and  plainly,  there  would  be  great  danger 
that '  men  would  altogether  ceas*  to  be  honest,  in  the  proper 
sense  of  the  term,  and  would  be  only  politic.  So  weak  are 
human  purposes,  that  we  cannot  often  be  certain  of  ourselves, 
until  an  emergency  arises  in  which  we  are  required  to  be  virtu- 
ous at  some  apparent  cost,  or  by  some  sacrifice.  God's  justice 
will  be  sufficiently  vindicated,  if  it  shall  at  length  appear,  that 
the  cost  is  only  apparent,  and  that  the  sacrifice  is  ultimately  re- 
paid a  hundred  fold. 

How  happiness  is  distributed  in  this  world.  —  What  we  ob- 


THE    MORAL    LAW    ENFORCED.  329 

serve  of  the  distribution  of  happiness  in  this  world  between  the 
virtuous  and  the  wicked,  has  been  so  clearly  and  fully  stated  by 
Adam  Smitli,  in  his  Theory  of  Moral  Sentiments,  that  I  borrow 
his  language.  "  If  we  consider,"  he  says,  "  the  general  rules 
by  which  external  prosperity  and  adversity  are  commonly  dis- 
tributed in  this  life,  we  shall  find,  that  notwithstanding  the 
disorder  in  which  all  things  appear  to  be  in  this  world,  yet  even 
here,  every  virtue  naturally  meets  with  its  proper  reward,  with 
the  recompense  which  is  most  fit  to  encourage  and  promote  it ; 
and  this,  too,  so  surely,  that  it  requires  a  very  extraordinary 
concurrence  of  circumstances  entirely  to  disappoint  it.  What 
is  the  reward  most  proper  for  encouraging  mdustry,  prudence, 
and  circumspection  ?  Success  in  every  sort  of  business.  Aiid 
is  it  possible,  that,  in  the  whole  of  life,  these  virtues  should  fail 
of  attaining  it  ?  Wealth  and  external  honors  are  their  proper 
recompense,  and  the  recompense  which  they  can  seldom  fail  of 
acquiring.  What  reward  is  most  proper  for  promoting  the 
practice  of  truth,  justice,  and  humanity?  The  confidence,  the 
esteem  and  love,  of  those  we  live  with.  Humanity  does  not 
desire  to  be  great,  but  to  be  beloved.  It  is  jiot  in  being  ricli 
that  truth  and  justice  would  rejoice,  but  in  being  trusted  and 
believed,  —  recompenses  which  those  virtues  must  almost  al- 
ways acquire. 

"  By  some  very  extraordinary  and  unlucky  circumstance,  a 
good  man  may  come  to  be  suspected  of  a  crime,  of  which  he 
was  altogether  incapable,  and  upon  that  account,  be  most  un- 
justly exposed,  for  the  remaining  part  of  his  life,  to  the  horror 
and  aversion  of  mankind.  By  an  accident  of  this  kind,  he  may 
be  said  to  lose  his  all,  notwithstanding  his  integrity  and  justice  ; 
in  the  same  manner  as  a  cautious  man,  notwithstanding  his  ut- 
most circumspection,  may  be  ruined  by  an  earthquake  or  an 
inundation.  Accidents  of  the  first  kind,  however,  are  perhaps 
still  more  rare,  and  still  more  contrary  to  the  common  course  of 
things,  than  those  of  the  second ;  and  it  still  remains  true,  that 
the  practice  of  truth,  justice,  and  humanity  is  a  certain  and 
almost  infallible  method  of  acquiring  what  those  viii:ues  chiefly 
aim  at,  the  confidence  and  love  of  those  we  live  with.     A  per- 

28* 


830  THE    MORAL    LAW    ENFORCED. 

son  may  be  very  easily  misrepresented  with  regard  to  a  particu- 
lar action  ;  but  it  is  scarce  possible  that  he  should  be  so  with 
regard  to  the  general  tenor  of  his  conduct.  An  innocent  man 
may  be  believed  to  have  done  wrong ;  this,  however,  will  rarely 
happen.  On  the  contrary,  the  established  opinion  of  the  inno- 
cence of  his  manners  will  often  lead  us  to  absolve  him  where 
he  has  really  been  in  fault,  notwithstanding  very  strong  pre- 
sumptions. A  knave,  in  the  same  manner,  may  escape  censure, 
or  even  meet  with  applause,  for  a  particular  knavery  in  which 
his  conduct  is  not  understood.  But  no  man  was  ever  habitually 
Buch,  without  being  almost  universally  known  to  be  so,  and 
without  being  even  frequently  suspected  of  guilt  when  he  was 
in  reality  perfectly  innocent.  And  so  far  as  vice  and  virtue 
can  be  either  punished  or  rewarded  by  the  sentiments  and 
opinions  of  mankind,  they  both,  according  to  the  common 
course  of  things,  meet,  even  here,  with  something  more  than 
exact  and  impartial  justice."  - 

The  connection  hetween  virtue  ■  find  happiness  admitted  hy  all 
men.  —  But  my  point  is,  perhaps,  sufficiently  established  by  a 
general  reference  to  the  fact,  that  nearly  all  writers  upon  the 
theory  of  ethics,  some  of  whom  have  written  against  the  evi- 
dences of  religion,  have  yet  traced  a  close  connection  between 
virtue  and  happiness ;  many  of  them  going  so  far  as  to  main- 
tain,, that  virtue   is   obligatory  only  because  it  is  useful ;  *  and 

; 

*  Hume,  in  his  Principles  of  Morals,  adopts  the  Selfish  System  to  its 
full  extent,  maintaining  that  the  virtues  are  oblig-atoiy  upon  us  only 
because  they  are  pleasing  and  amiable,  and  because  they  conduce  to  our 
own  welfare  and  to  the  welfare  of  those  around  us,  in  whom  we  are  in- 
terested by  sympathy.  According  to  this  System,  self-denial  is  not  a  \\y- 
tue ;  a  sacrifice  of  happiness  can  never  be  a  duty,  since  an  action  becomes 
obligatory  only  so  far  as  it  conduces  to  happiness.  "Are  not  justice, 
fidelity,  honor,  veracity,  allegiance,  chastity,"  he  inquires,  "esteemed  solely 
on  account  of  their  tendency  to  promote  the  good  of  society  ?  "  Speaking  of 
industry,  discretion,  frugality,  etc.,  he  asks,  "can  it  be  doubted,  that  the 
tendency  of  these  qualities  to  promote  the  interest  and  happiness  of  their 
possessor,  is  the  sole  foundation  of  their  merit  ?  "  He  had  previously  de- 
clared, that  " persoiial  merit  consists  altogether  in  the  possession  of  mental 
qualities  useful  or  agreeable  to  the  person  himself,  or  to  others."     On  this 


THE    MORAL    LAW    ENFORCED.  331 

others,  more  trustworthy,  holding  up  utility  as  the  only  safe 
criterion  or  test  oi  right  conduct;  so  that,  when  we  are  in 
doubt  whether  a  certain   action  is  morally  right  or  wrong,  the 


ground,  such  pleasing  personal  qnalijties  as  wit,  good-manners,  affability, 
liveliness,  etc.,  are  elevated  by  him  to  the  rank  of  virtues ;  while  self-denii;!, 
humility,  and  the  like,  ai-e  transferred  to  "  the  opposite  column,"  and  placed 
''in  the  catalogue  of  vices." 

In  answer  to  this  sophistry,  it  is  enough  to  say^  that  coiiFclence  fequiivT| 
US  to  act  justly,  even  to  the  extent,  if  necessary,  of  abridging  our  ow  i  \ 
means  of  happiness,  and  injuring  the  welfare  of  the  community  in  whic  h  i 
we  live.  It  is  not  necessary  to  jprove,  that  an  act  of  justice  may  sometimes  [ 
require  such  a  sacrifice. f  It  is  enough  ihat  the  agent  helieves  he  is  resigii- ' 
"nig  some  personal  goodj  or  is  perilling  his  own  welfare,  by  following  tLo 
dictu^es  of  conscience.  There  may  be  a  compensation  to  him  in  the  loi;g 
run ;  but  if  he  does  not  foresee  that  compensation,  does  not  believe  tliat  lie 
will  obtain  it,  and  acts  altogether  without  reference  to  it,  then,  in  the  view 
of  all  the  spectators  of  his  conduct,  his  merit  is  enhanced  by  his  disin- 
terestedness. According  to  Hume,  this  very  disinterestedness  renders  the 
action  blamable  instead  of  praiseworthy.  If  an  apparently  benevolent 
action  is  found  to  have  a  taint  of  selfishness  in  it,  if  the  agent  was  really 
consulting  his  own  good  while  he  appeared  to  be  acting  solely  for  others, 
he  actually  forfeits  all  claim  to  the  approbation  of  other  persons  or  of  his 
own  conscience ;  but,  according  to  Hume,  his  merit  would  be  enhanced  by 
such  a  motive.  In  respect  to  the  definitions  of  virtue  and  personal  mei-it 
which  lead  Hume  to  confound  talents  with  virtues,  Dugald  Stewart  justly 
remarks,  "  nothing  can  be  plainer  than  that  the  words  virtue  and  vice  are 
applicable  only  to  those  parts  of  our  character  and  conduct  which  depend 
on  our  own  voluntary  exertions.  Sensibility,  gaj-ety,  liveliness,  good- 
humor,  natural  affection,  are  a.  source  of  pleasure  to  every  beholder,  and, 
wherever  they  are  to  be  found,  entitle  the  possessor  to  the  appellation  of 
amiable;  bat  in  so  far  as  they  result  from  original  constitution,  or  from 
external  circumstances  over  which  he  had  no  control,  they  certainly  do  not 
render  him  an  object  of  moral  approbation." 

Still,  the  testimony  of  such  a  moralist  as  Hume  upon  the  point  con- 
sidered in  the  text, — tlie  intimate  connection  between  virtue  and  happi- 
ness,—  is  valuable,  for  it  is  the  testimony  of  an  opponent  of  all  religion. 
The  following  passage  is  the  conclusion  of  his  "  Inquiry  coltcerning  the 
Principles  of  ^Morals."  * 

"Let  a  man  suppose  that  he  has  full  power  of  modelling  his  own  dis- 
position, and  let  him  deliberate  what  appetite  or  desire  he  would  choose 
for  the  foundation  of  his  happiness  and  enjoyment.  Every  affection, 
he  would  observe^  when  gratified  by  success,  gives  a  satisfaction  propur- 


332  THE   MORAL    LAW    ENFORCED. 

only  mode  of.  resolving  that  doubt  is  to  inquire,  whether  the 
action  is,  on  the  whole,  beneficial  or  injurious  to  the  agent,  to 
society,  and  to  mankind.     There  may  be  a  few  moralists  who 


tioned  to  its  force  and  violence :  but  besides  this  advantage,  common 
to  all,  the  immediate  feeling  of  benevolence  and  friendship,  humanity 
and  kindness,  is  sweet,  smooth,,  tender,  and  s^reeable,  independent  of 
all  fortune  and  accidents.  These  virtues  are,  besides,  attended  with  a 
pleasing  consciousness  or  remembrance,  and  keep  as  in  humor  with 
ourselves  as  well  as  others  ;  while  we  retain  the  agreeable  reflection  of 
having  done  our  part  towards  mankind  and  society.  And  though  all  men 
show  a  jealousy  of  our  success  in  the  pursuits  of  avarice  and  ambition ; 
yet  are  we  almost  sure  of  their  good-will  and  good  wishes,  so  long  as  we 
persevere  in  the  paths  of  virtue,  and  employ  ourselves  in  the  execution  of 
generous  plans  and  pui*poses.  What  other  passion  is  there  where  we  shall 
find  so  many  advantages  united ;  an  agreeable  sentiment,  a  pleasing  con- 
sciousness, a  good  reputation  ?  But  of  these  truths,  we  may  observe,  men 
are  of  thejnselves  pretty  much  convinced ;  nor  are  they  deficient  in  their 
duty  to  society,  because  they  would  not  wish  to  be  generous,  friendly,  and 
humane,  but  because  they  do  not  feel  themselves  such. 

"  Treating  vice  with  the  greatest  candor,  and  making  it  all  possible  con- 
cessions, we  must  acknowledge  that  there  is  not,  in  any  instance,  the 
smallest  pretext  for  giving  it  the  preference  above  virtue,  with  a  view  to 
self-interest ;  except,  perhaps,  in  the  case  of  justice,  where  a  man,  taking 
things  in  a  certain  light,  may  often  seem  to  be  a  loser  by  his  integrity. 
And  though  it  is  allowed  that,  without  a  regard  to  property,  no  society 
could  subsist,  yet,  according  to  the  imperfect  way  in  which  human  affairs 
are  conducted,  a  sensible  knave>  in  particular  incidents,  may  think  that  an 
act  of  iniquity  or  infidelity  will  make  considerable  addition  to  his  fortune, 
without  causing  any  considerable  breach  in  the  social  union  and  con- 
federacy. That  honeetif  is  the  best  pdiaj  may  be  a  good  general  rule,  but 
is  liable  to  many  exceptions.  And  he,  it  may  periiaps  be  thought,  con- 
ducts himself  with  most  wisdom,  who  obsenxs  the  general  rule,  and  takes 
advantage  of  all  the  exceptions. 

"  I  must  confess,  that  if  a  man  think  that  this  reasoning  much  requires 
an  answer,  it  will  be  a  little  difiicult  to  find  any  which  will  to  him  appear 
satisfactory  and  convincing.  If  his  heart  rebel  not  against  such  pernicious 
maxims,  if  he  feel  no  reluctance  to  the  thoughts  of  villany  or  baseness, 
he 'has  indeed  lost  a  considerable  motive  to  virtue;  and  we  may  expect 
that  his  practice  ^vill  be  answerable  to  his  speculation.  But  in  all  ingen- 
uous natures,  the  antipathy  to  treachery  and  roguery  is  too  strong  to  be 
counterbalanced  by  any  views  of  profit  or  pecuniary  advantage.  Inward 
peace  of  mind,  consciousness  of  integrity,  a  satisfactory  review  of  our  own 


THE    MORAL    LAW    ENFORCED.  333 

would  not  accept  either  of  these  doctrines  in  so  broad  and  un- 
qualified a  manner  as  I  have  stated  them ;  but  I  never  heard 
of  one  who  was  bold  enough  to  maintain,  that  vice,  on  the  whole, 
was  the  best  policy  for  the  individual,  or  most  likely  to  promote 
the  interests  of  society ;  the  common  sense  of  mankind  would 
instantly  reject  so  monstrous  a  paradox.  For  the  truth  on  this 
subject  is  held  not  merely  by  instructed  and  reflecting  men,  by 
those  who  are  inclined  to  speculative  pursuits,  or  who  have 
made  ethics  a  favorite  study,  but  it  is  embodied  in  a  multitude 
of.  those  proverbs  and  axiomatic  sayings,  which  are  the  reposi- 
tories of  the  wisdom  and  the  expex'ience  of  the  bulk  of  mankind. 
Poor  Richard's  morality  is  a  mere  string  of  such  sayings,  all 
going  to  show  the  invariable  connection  between  integrity,  so-* 
briety,  and  industry  on  the  one  hand,  and  health,  peace  of  mind, 
reputation,  and  riches  on  the  other.  The  indignation  or  sorrow 
■R  hich  we  feel,  when  one  of  these  virtues  fails  to  meet  its  appro- 
priate reward,  or  when,  in  solitary  instances,  knavery  or  indo- 


conduct,  these  are  circumstances  very  requisite  to  happiness,  and  will  be 
cherished  and  cultivated  by  every  honest  man  who  feels  the  importance  of 
them. 

"  Such  a  one  has,  besides,  the  frequent  satisfaction  of  seeing  knaves, 
with  all  their  pretended  cunning  and  abilities,  betrayed  by  their  own 
maxims  ;  and  while  they  purpose  to  cheat  with  moderation  and  secrecy,  a 
tempting  incident  occurs,  nature  is  frail,  and  they  give  into  the  snare ; 
whence  they  can  never  extricate  themselves,  without  a  total  loss  of  repu- 
tation, and  the  forfeiture  of  all  future  trust  and  confidence  with  mankind. 

"  But  were  they  ever  so  secret  and  successful,  the  honest  man,  if  he  has 
any  tincture  of  philosophy,  or  even  common  observation  and  reflection, 
will  discover  that  they  themselves  are,  in  the  end,  the  greatest  dupes,  and 
have  sacrificed  the  invaluable  enjoyment  of  a  character,  with  themselves  at 
least,  for  the  acquisition  of  worthless  toys  and  gewgaws.  How  little  is 
requisite  to  supply  the  necessities  of  nature  1  And  in  a  view  to  pleasure, 
what  comparison  between  the  unbought  satisfaction  of  conversation,  so- 
ciety, study,  even  health  and  the  common  beauties  of  nature,  but  above 
all,  the  peaceful  reflection  on  one's  own  conduct,  —  what  comparison,  I 
say,  between  these,  and  the  feverish,  empty  amusements,  of  luxury  and 
expense  ?  These  natural  pleasures,  indeed,  are  really  without  price  ;  both 
because  they  are  below  all  price  in  their  attainment,  and  above  it  in  their 
enjoyment."  • 


334  THE    JIOKAL    LAW    ENFORCED. 

lence  seems  for  a  time  to  prosper,  is  always  mingled  with  sur- 
prise at  an  oecuiTence  so  imlooked  for  ;  and  the  prominence 
which  the  case  at  once  assumes,  the  frequency  of  the  allusions 
to  it,  shows  both  that  our  moral  constitution  is  very  sensitive  in 
this  respect,  and  that  the  vast  majority  of  examples  turn  the 
other  way. 

Pleasures  and  pains  are  intended  to  urge  us  to  right  conduct. 
—  There  are  many  pleasures  and  pains  which  follow  so  closely 
upon  the  virtuous  and  vicious  actions  of  which  they  are  the  le- 
gitimate consequences,  or  have  so  obvious  and  intimate  a  con- 
nection with  them,  that  even  the  most  unthinking  or  immoral 
persons  are  obliged  to  admit,  that  these  consequences  are  proper 
fewards  and  punishments,  which  were  intended  both  to  guide 
and  to  urge  us  to  right  conduct.  Take  the  effects  upon  the 
bodily  health,  for  instance.  It  is  notorious,  that  vice  enfeebles, 
corrupts,  poisons,  and  destroys  the  physical  constitution,  while 
wtue  invigorates  and  preserves  it,  retards  the  approach  of  dis- 
ease, or  mitigates  its  virulence  when  it  comes,  sweetens  life  and 
prolongs  it.  The  laws  of  hygiene,  when  well  understood,  are  hut 
interpretations  of  the  laws  of  morals.  The  physician  will  tell 
you,  that  he  who  desires  the  greatest  of  all  earthly  blessings  — 
a  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body  —  has  no  shorter  course  for  ob- 
taining it  than  by  making  himself  a  thoroughly  good  man.  The 
unhappy  consequences  of  intemperance  and  debauchery,  of 
riotous  and  malevolent  passions,  are  so  many  beacons  erected 
along  the  roadside,  to  warn  the  traveller  against  even  occasional 
deviations  from  the  path  of  rectitude.  Debility,  consumption, 
fever,  insanity,  and  nearly  all  the  other  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to, 
when  traced  to  their  sources,  are  usually  seen  to  be  the  results 
of  imprudence  or  sin  ;  and  even  if  apparently  transmitted  by 
inheritance,  so  that  the  immediate  sufferer  under  them  is  guilt- 
less, the  warning  which  they  utter  is  only  the  more  impressive, 
as  they  show  that  the  sins  of  the  fathers  are  visited  upon  the 
children,  and  the  natural  affections  are  thus  more  strongly  en- 
listed on  the  side  of  virtue.  Can  any  one  even  imagine,  that 
this  direct  connection  between  right  conduct  and  bodily  health, 
is  accidental  or  meaningless  ?     Ought  \^e  not  rather  to  consider 


THE   MORAL    LAW    ENFORCED.  3-35 

it  but  as  one  feature,  and  that  not  the  most  prominent  one,  in 
the  broad  scheme  of  Divine  government,  all  the  parts  of  which 
iire  consistent  with  each  other,  and  all  visibly  tend  to  the  up- 
holding of  that  law  which  is  written  upon  the  heart  ? 

The  tendencies  of  virtue  and  vice.  —  We  have  still  further 
proof  that  vii'tue  is  advantageous  both  to  the  virtuous  man  and 
to  society,  if  we  look  not  only  to  its  direct  consequences^  but 
to  its  tendencies.  There  are  many  hindrances  here  below  to 
what  may  be  called  the  natural  operation  of  things.  Take 
away  these  impediments  ;  give  time,  scope,  and  opportunity  for 
each  cause  to  work  separately,  and  produce  its  appropriate  re- 
sults, unobstructed  by  the  action  of  other  causes,  and  we  shall 
more  easily  discern  its  true  nature  and  peculiar  effects.  Virtue 
and  vice,  for  instance,  are  commingled  among  men,  and  even  iu 
the  same  person  ;  the  beneficial  effects  of  the  one  are  hidden  or- 
neutralized  by  the  unhappy  consequences  of  the  other ;  the 
merit  of  a  good  action  is  obscured  by  the  misconduct  that  fol- 
lows it.  An  upright  man  suffers  from  the  crimes  of  his  ances- 
tors or  his  neighbors  ;  even  in  this  case,  we  see  that  crime  is 
punished,  or  has  injurious  tendencies ;  only  merit  does  not  seem 
to  receive  its  due.  In  fact,  it  is  rewarded,  for  the  suffering 
which  flows  from  the  crimes  of  others  would  be  enhanced,  if  the 
sufferer  himself  were  also  guilty.  As  it  is,  his  innocence  miti- 
gates the  blow,  the  consciousness  of  integrity,  under  any  circum- 
stances being  one  of  the  greatest  delights  the  mind  can  expe- 
rience. Isolate  each  case,  consider  how  virtue  and  vice  tvotdd 
work,  if  they  ivere  not  brought  in  contact  with  each  other,  and 
their  respective  tendencies,  or  the  true  character  of  their  effects, 
will  he  revealed. 

Suppose,  for  example,  as  Bishop  Butler  has  done,  the  exist- 
ence of  a  republic  or  society  of  men,  perfectly  virtuous,  during 
a  succession  of  ages.  Selfishness,  fraud,  or  treachery,  would 
have  no  part  in  their  councils  ;  they  would  deliberate  only  about 
the  best  means  of  effectino;  ":ood,  and  no  force  would  be  needed 
in  order  to  carry  their  decisions  into  effect.  Envy  having  no 
place  among  them,  the  direction  of  affairs  would  readily  be  con- 
ceded to  those  who  had  the  most  intelligence  and  capacity ;  and 


336  THE   MORAL    LAW   ENFORCED. 

these  would  covet  the  post  wily  from  the  superior  advantages  it 
afforded  for  carrying  out  their  benevolent  schemes  or  projects 
for  advancing  the  common  welfare.  As  all  would  be  equally 
industrious,  poverty  with  its  long  train  of  ills  would  be  unknown  ; 
almshouses  would  be  no  more  needed  than  prisons.  Health  and 
long  life  would  reward  their  temperance  and  the  restraint  of 
their  passions,  and  death  would  be  only  the  painless  sequel  of 
old  age,  when  one  was  satiated  with  living.  The  neighboring 
communities,  revering  their  virtues  or  admiring  their  prospei'ity, 
would  hasten  to  place  themselves  under  their  dominion ;  and 
their  peaceful  victories  would  far  exceed  all  that  have  ever 
been  gained  by  the  sword. 

I  know  that  this  supposition  could  never  be  realized,  except 
by  a  change  miraculously  effected  in  the  hearts  of  men ;  but 
improbable  as  it  seems,  is  it  any  thing  more  than  a  faithful  de- 
lineation of  what  the  consequences  of  virtue  would  be,  if  it 
were  possible  to  separate  them  from  the  effects  of  vice  ?  •  Grant 
that  such  characters  are  possible,  and  even  from  what  we  now 
see  of  the  current  of  this  world's  affairs,  is  it  not  certain  that 
such  conduct  and  such  prosperity  would  be  the  result?  If  so, 
the  intentions  of  the  Almighty  are  apparent  even  in  the  present 
and  actual  constitution  of  things.  Virtue,  as  suck,  is  rewarded, 
and  vice,  as  such,  is  punished,  in  spite  of  the  seeming  confusion 
that  results  from  both  these  classes  of  effects  being  visible  at 
the  same  time. 

ITie  inward  delights  of  virtue* — However  the  outward  ad- 
vantages of  right  conduct  may  be  hidden  for  a  time,  the  inward 
delights  which  it  produces  are  constant  and  of  vast  importance ; 
and  as  these  result  from  the  general  constitution  of  our 
minds,  apart  from  the  moral  faculty  itself,  they  are  properly 
ranked  among  the  incentives  to  and  rewards  of  virtue.  It  is 
well  observed  by  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  that  although  there 
may  be  immortal  acts  which,  in  some  sense,  or  for  a  season, 
appeal*  to  be  advantageous  to  the  actor,  "the  whole  sagacity 
and  ingenuity  of  the  world  may  be  safely  challenged  to  point 
out  a  case,  in  which  virtuous  dispositions,  habits,  and  feelings 
are  not  conducive  in  the  highest  degree  to  the  happiness  of 


THE    MORAL    LAW    ENFORCe'D.  337 

the  individual ;  or  to  maintain  that  he  is  not  the  happiest,  whose 
moral  sentiments  and  affections  are  such  as  to  prevent  the  possi- 
bility of  the  prospect  of  advantage,  through  unlawful  means,  from 
presenting  itself  to  his  mind.  It  would,  indeed,  have  been  im- 
possible to  prove  to  Eegulus,  that  it  was  his  interest  [volun- 
tarily] to  return  to  a  death  of  torture  in  Africa,  [merely  because 
he  had  plighted  his  word  that  he  would  return].  But  what  if 
the  proof  had  been  easy  ?  The  most  thorough  conviction  on 
such  a  point  would  not  have  enabled  him  to  set  this  example,  if 
he  had  not  been  supported  by  his  own  integrity  and  generosity, 
by  love  of  his  country,  and  reverence  for  his  pledged  faith. 
What  could  the  conviction  add  to  that  greatness  of  soul,  and  to 
these  glorious  attributes  ?  With  such  virtues,  he  could  not  act 
otherwise  than  he  did.  Would  a  father,  affectionately  inter 
ested  in  a  son's  happiness,  of  very  lukewarm  feelings  of  moral- 
ity, but  of  good  sense  enough  to  weigh  gratifications  and  suffer- 
ings exactly,  be  really  desirous  that  his  son  should  have  these 
virtues  in  a  less  degree  than  Regulus,  merely  because  they 
might  expose  him  to  the  fate  which  Regulus  chose  ?  On  the 
coldest  calculation,  he  would  surely  perceive,  that  the  high  and 
glowing  feelings  of  such  a  mind  during  life,  altogether  throw 
into  the  shade  a  few  hours  of  agony  in  leaving  it.  And  if  he 
himself  were  so  unfortunate,  that  no  more  generous  sentiment 
arose  in  his  mind  to  silence  such  calculations,  would  it  not  be  a 
reproach  to  his  understanding  not  to  discover,  that  though,  in 
one  case  out  of  millions,  such  a  character  might  lead  a  Regulus 
to  torture,  yet,  in  the  common  course  of  nature,  it  is  the  source 
not  only  of  happiness  m  hfe,  but  of  quiet  and  honor  in  death  ? 
A  case  so  extreme  as  that  of  Regulus  will  not  perplex,  if  we 
bear  in  mmd,  that,  though  we  cannot  prove  the  act  of  heroic 
virtue  to  be  conducive  to  the  interest  of  the  hero,  yet  we  may 
perceive  at  once,  that  nothing  is  so  conducive  to  his  interest  as 
to  have  a  mind  so  formed  that  it  could  not  slirink  from  it,  but 
must  rather  embrace  it  with  gladness  and  triumph." 

This  case  is  not  so  singular  as  we  are  apt  to  imagine.  Every 
prisonei^  of  icar  who  observes  Ms  parol,  though  the  consequence 
to  himself  is  a  long  and  irksome  captivity,  acts  from  the  same 

29 


z.^ 


338  THE    MORAL    LAW    ENFORCED. 

motives  which  guided  the  conduct  of  the  Roman  hero,  and  at  a 
eacrifice,  which,  though  less  than  liis,  is  still  considerable.  But 
in  the  estimate  not  only  of  his  comrades,  with  their  peculiar 
notions  of  honor,  but  of  all  mankind,  this  sacrifice  is  so  far  from 
being  unaccompanied  by  a  full  recompense  in  the  high  and 
pleasurable  feelings  which  attend  it,  that,  if  he  fails  to  make 
it,  he  becomes  an  object  of  universal  pity  and  contempt. 

Huinan  government  is  hut  one  form  of  Divine  government.  — 
That  many  of  the  rewards  and  punishments  which  wait  upon 
the  observance  or  infraction  of  the  Divine  law,  are  dispensed  at 
Imman  tribunals,  or  through  the  agency  of  men  in  society,  is  no 
proof  that  they  are  not  divinely  appointed.  Human  government 
is  but  one  form  or  manifestation  of  Heaven's  direction  and  con- 
trol, —  rendered  somewhat  less  upright  and  sure,  it  is  true,  by 
passing  through  man's  hands,  but  yet  created  in  all  its  essential 
features  by  what  are  called  the  necessities  of  the  case  ;  —  that  is, 
arranged  with  reference  to  the  wants  and  interests  of  society, 
these  wants  and  interests  being  determined  by  the  general  con- 
stitution of  things,  or  by  the  ordinary  current  of  human  affairs, 
which  is  formed  and  guided  by  the  wisdom  and  power  of  the 
Deity.  Crime,  for  instance,  is  punished  by  men,  not  so  much 
because  it  is  disobedience  to  God,  as  because  it  is  prejudicial  to 
society ;  but  then  it  is  God^s  appointment  that  it  should  be  thus 
prejudicial  to-  society,  and  that  men  should  thereby  be  urged  to 
punish  it.  Now  the  prevailing  tone  and  direction  of  human 
law,  in  all  countries  and  all  ages,  is  coincident  with  the  dictates 
of  conscience.  Virtue  is  rewarded,  and  vice  is  punished,  by  so- 
ciety. Examine  all  the  codes  of  law  that  have  ever  been  framed, 
and  you  will  find  that  their  chief  purpose  and  tendency  are  to 
repress  immoral  conduct,  and  to  encourage  and  protect  the 
innocent  and  the  virtuous.  That  government  is  a  bad  one,  which 
fails  to  carry  out  these  purposes  with  sufficient  vigor,  prompt- 
ness, and  effect,  or  which  mingles  up  with  them  more  or  less  of 
unholy  ambition  and  arrogant  self-^vill ;  but  no  government  was 
ever  wicked  enough  to  reverse  these  purposes,  and  to  aim 
directly  and  avowedly  at  the  encom-agement  of  vice,  the  dis- 
tress of  innocence,  and  the  punishment  of  goodness.     Even  an 


THE    MORAL    LAW    ENFORCED.  339 

Asiatic  despotism  professes,  and  probably  intends,  to  punish 
theft,  perjury,  fraud,  and  unprovoked  injury,  iii  all  cases  where 
its  o\VTi  interest  is  not  immediately  concerned ;  that  is,  of  course, 
in  the  vast  majority  of  cases  that  arise  among  its  subjects.  It 
may  omit  all  the  forms  and  precautions  that  civilized  nations 
have  come  to  observe,  as  the  safeguards  of  innocence  and  pre- 
servatives against  unintentional  wrong;  it  may  administer  wild 
justice,  but  justice  is  its  aim ;  it  wields  the  sword  against  crime, 
and  often  with  terrible  effect.  Even  the  law  which  regulates 
the  intercourse  of  nations  with  each  other,  and  which,  prob- 
ably, is  the  most  imperfect  of  human  codes,  still  founds  most  of 
its  provisions  on  the  natural  sense  of  right,  and  most  of  the 
actions  which  it  forbids  are  decidedly  immoral  and  injurious. 

It  is  an  obvious  remark,  that  a  system  or  scheme  of  govern- 
ment should  be  distinguished  from  a  number  of  single,  uncon- 
nected cicts  of  distributive  justice  and  goodness.  Now  the  in- 
stances already  adduced,  are  surely  enough  to  show,  that  if 
there  be  such  a  system  or  general  plan,  it  is  favorable  to  virtue, 
and  was  designed  to  encourage  men  in  right  conduct.  All  that 
can  be  urged  on  the  other  side  amounts  to  a  gleaning^  of  discon- 
nected facts,  in  regard  to  which,  it  may  be  difficult  to  see  that 
the  law  of  equity,  of  righteous  retribution,  has  been  observed ; 
it  is  not  pretended  that  these  facts  are  numerous  or  grave  enough 
to  afford  a  presumption,  either  that  the  government  is  favorable 
to  vice,  or  else  that  there  is  no  government  at  all,  —  pleasure 
and  pain,  prosperity  and  adversity,  being  allotted  at  random. 
Thus  much  is  admitted  on  all  hands ;  —  that  the  virtuous  man  is 
prosperous  is  the  rule  ;  that  the  vicious  sometimes  succeed,  is  the 
exception.  We  have  a  right,  then,  to  appeal  to  our  ignorance 
and  shortsightedness,  to  our  limited  means  of  observation,  in  or- 
der to  explain  away  even  these  few  exceptions.  We  cannot  trace 
all  the  consequences  of  another's  act ;  those  which  are  near  may 
be  injurious,  those  which  are  remote  may  be  beneficial,  and  far 
more  numerous  and  important.  We  cannot  enter  into  the  mind 
of  the  agent,  and  discern  what  secret  satisfaction  is  there,  which 
far  outweighs  the  external  harm.  Above  all,  we  may  be  mis- 
taken in  the  character  of  the  act  itself,  and  lose  sight  of  the  dis- 


340  THE    MORAL  'LAW    ENFORCED. 

tinction  between  absolute  and  relative  rectitude.  A  seemingly 
meritorious  deed  may  have  had  its  origin  in  selfishness  ;  another, 
wrongful  in  its  outward  aspect,  may  have  proceeded  from  the 
highest  and  holiest  intentions.  We  are  not,  then,  lightly  to  sup- 
pose that  the  moral  government  of  God  is  at  fault;  even  in  iso- 
lated cases. 

The  moral  world  subject  to  general  laws,  as  well  as  the  physical 
world.  — We  conclude,  then,  from  an  abundance  of  testimony, 
that  the  sense  of  moral  obligation,  which  rises  spontaneously  in 
the  mind  of  every  human  being,  and  is  as  much  a  part  of  his 
constitution  as  his  reason  or  his  senses,  is  supported  and  en- 
forced by  arrangements  in  the  vvorld  without,  and  by  the  course 
of  events  in  the  external  history  of  man.  The  law  has  been 
traced  up  to  the  Lawgiver,  and  in  the  contents  of  the  law  we 
have  found  a  delineation  of  the  character  of  its  Author.  We 
now  learn,  that,  as  the  Creator  and  Governor  of  the  universe, 
he  has  established  a  harmony  between  the  requisitions  of  that 
law  which  he  has  imprinted  on  the  conscience,  and  the  external 
fortunes  of  men,  or  the  curi-ent  of  this  world's  affairs.  The 
moral  world,  or  the  history  of  mankind,  is  no  more  an  unregu- 
lated chaos,  or  a  fortuitous  combination  and  succession  of  dis- 
similar and  characterless  events,  than*  is  the  physical  universe. 
In  both,  we  discern,  not  merely  the  filaments  of  order,  but  a 
closely  woven  web  covered  with  a  uniform  and  glorious  pattern. 
General  laws,  as  they  are  called,  —  literally  in  the  former  case, 
metaphorically  in  the  latter,  —  are  found  to  pervade  the  whole 
fabric.  It  is  not  more  certain,  that  the  forms  and  changes  of 
aggregations  of  matter  are  determined  according  to  the  princi- 
ples of  gravitation,  affinity,  definite  proportions,  and  the  like, 
than  it  is  that  the  consequences  of  human  action  and  the  annals 
of  human  life  accord  with  the  fixed  principles  of  morals  and 
the  stern  demands  of  distributive  justice.  To  the  uninstructed 
mind,  not  trained  in  habits  of  scientific  observation,  and  unskil- 
ful in  finding  the  key  which  converts  an  apparent  maze  into  an 
harmonious  and  well  proportioned  plan,  there  are  not  only  many 
anomalies,  but  seeming  lawlessness  and  confusion  in  both. 

Apparent  exceptions  really  prove  the  general  rule.  —  If  the 


THE  MORAL  LAW  ENFORCED.  341 

child  or  the  savage,  for  instance,  should  begin  to  trace  the 
yearly  paths  of  the  planets  among  the  stars,  as  they  actually 
appear  to  the  observer  from  the  earth,  should  combine  and  com- 
pare such  observations  for  successive  years,  and  thus  come  to 
know  the  alternate  direct  and  retrograde  motions  of  these 
bodies,  recurring  at  irregular  intervals,  the  quickening  and  re- 
tarding of  tlieir  pace,  their  occasional  stops,  and  the  strange 
curves  Avliich  they  describe  on  the  nightly  skies,  he  would  -cer- 
tainly conclude,  that  their  seemingly  fantastic  movements  could 
neither  be  traced  to  any  fixed  cause  working  uniformly,  nor 
reduced  to  any  plain  and  symmetrical  system.  He  would 
rather  class  them  with  the  arbitrary  turns,  the  inconstant  sway- 
ing, rising,  and  falling  of  a  single  feather  left  to  float  at  random 
in  the  wind.  But  the  man  of  science  places  before  you  the 
simple  diagram  of  the  solar  system,  explains  each  illusion  that 
arises  from  the  position  of  the  observer  on  the  earth,  deduces 
every  movement  that  takes  place  from  the  single  principle  of 
gravitation,  by  the  aid  of  which  he  can  predict  the  very  point 
of  space  which  either  of  the  orbs  will  occupy  at  any  future  mo- 
ment, and  thus  shows,  in  truth,  that  the  simplicity  of  the  scheme, 
and  the  harmony  of  all  its  parts  with  each  other,  are  its  most 
striking  features.  He  will  even  find  harmony  and  law  in  the 
capricious  movements  of  the  feather,  and  show  that  all  its  gyra- 
tions may  be  traced  to  the  same  law  of  gravitation  which 
directs  the  planets,  and  which  operates  as  regularly  and  abso- 
lutely in  this  case,  as  in  guiding  those  vast  bodies  in  their  swift 
flight  around  the  sun. 

Just  so  the  moral  world,  the  history  of  the  individual,  of  na- 
tions, and  of  the  race,  to  the  unreflecting  or  careless  mind,  seems 
to  present  a  mere  jumble  of  events,  —  the  blind  goddess  of  for- 
tune distributing  the  parts,  and  allotting  at  random  to  each  per- 
former the  measure  of  good  and  evil  in  this  life  which  he  is 
fated  to  receive.  But  study  this  maze  by  the  aid  of  the  eternal 
principles  of  right  and  wrong  which  are  enthroned  in  every 
heart,  strive  to  go  behind  the  external  trappings  of  prosperity 
and  adversity,  to  count  the  hours  of  real,  not  merely  seeming, 
enjoyment,  or,  in  other  words,  to  explore  the  private  history  of 

29* 


342  THE    MORAL    LAW    ENFORCED. 

every  man,  as  well  as  the  story  of  his  outer  and  piihlic  life,  and 
this  confusion  will  clear  away  almost  as  fully  as  in  the  case  of 
the  physical  universe.  I  say  "  almost  as  fully  ;  "  for  it  cannot 
be  denied,  that  the  problem  is  more  complicated  in  its  very 
nature;  —  the  material  universe,  in  all  its  large  features,  pre- 
sents to  us  exclusively  the  picture  of  God's  doings ;  the  moral 
•world,  so  far  as  it  is.  visible  to  our  eyes,  shows  the  union  of 
man's  action  with  that  of  his  Maker.  God  still  governs,  and 
that  absolutely ;  but  through  moral,  not  mechanical  means. 
Human  freewill  is  allowed  a  large  theatre  on  which  to  develop 
itself,  and  the  results  are  necessarily  more  complex  and  intri- 
cate than  when  Divine  agency  alone  is  exerted.  Still,  the  gov- 
ernment prevails,  order  reigns,  eternal  laws  are  prescribed  and 
enforced,  and  the  purposes  of  the  Almighty  are  carried  out. 
In  the  distribution  of  bodily  and  mental  health  and  disease ;  in 
the  conditions  of  what  is  called  success  in  life ;  in  the  secret 
contentment  and  joy  which  wait  on  the  unostentatious  fulfilment 
of  ordinary  duties,  and  in  the  glow  and  exaltation  of  feehng 
which  accompany  and  reward  a  great  apparent  sacrifice  for  the 
right ;  in  the  institutions  of  society  and  the  sympathies  of  man- 
kind, which  aim  directly  to  encourage  the  good  and  to  punish 
the  evil-doer  ;  —  in  these  and  many  other  circumstances,  I  see 
all  the  grand  features  of  a  comprehensive  plan,  wisely  contrived 
and  efficiently  carried  out,  to  win  men  to  the  practice  of  virtue 
and  to  punish  every  violation  of  the  moral  law.  If,  in  a  few 
cases,  I  behold  apparent  exceptions  to  the  rule,  or  am  not  able 
to  trace  the  workings  of  the  plan,  I  do  but  folloAV  the  ordinary 
principles  of  scientific  method  and  inductive  logic  in  maintain- 
ing, with  full-assured  belief,  that  a  more  complete  knowledge  of 
the  circumstances  would  show  that  the  scheme  operates  even 
here,  the  seeming  anomalies  being  in  truth  its  most  beautiful 
exemplifications.  If  a  planet  on  the  outer  verge  of  our  system 
shows  perturbations  for  which,  according  to  our  present  knowl- 
edge of  that  system,  the  law  of  gravity  will  not  account,  I  do 
not  therefore  conclude  that  the  law  is  suspended  in  this  single 
case,  but  rather  wait  with  firm  trust  for  the  progress  of  discovery 
to  point  out  some  still  exterior  orb,  as  yet  invisible  to  mortal 


THE    MORAL    LAW    P:XFORCED.  343 

ejes,  the  action  of  which  will  explain  the  seeming  disturbance, 
and  make  the  law  appear  as  universal  as  it  is  wise. 

The  general  rule  should  not  he  sought  for  in  isolated  cases.  — 
The  argument  for  the  moral  government,  the  justice  and  be- 
nevolence of  the  Deity  in  his  ways  with  men,  has,  I  think,  suf- 
fered somewhat  by  the  injudicious  course  of  those  who  have 
treated  it,  in  dwelhng  at  too  great  length  upon  these  isolated 
cases  and  seeming  anomalies,  as  if  at  least  a  probable  explana- 
tion of  every  one  of  them  was  needed  before  we  could  believe 
in  the  system ;  or  as  if  there  could  be  no  government  at  all,  un- 
less, with  our  present  imperfect  means  of  information,  we  coidd 
plainly  see  that  it  was  a  perfect  government.  But  the  man  of 
science  will  tell  you,  that  the  principle  which  really  holds 
throughout  a  class  is  to  be  sought  for,  not  among  the  few  scat- 
tered members  of  that  class  which  are  least  known,  but  in  the 
vast  majority  of  those  cases  which  are  most  directly  exposed  to 
observation.  Look  away  from  these  specks  and  anomalies,  and 
contemplate  the  broad  features  of  the  case.  He  who,  on  the 
evidence  thus  presented,  will  still  doubt,  whether  the  general 
and  widely  prevailing  tendency  of  this  world's  affairs  is  really 
to  uphold  the  law  of  conscience  by  a  system  of  rewards  and 
punishments  graduated  to  that  end,  and  actually  intended  by 
the  Disposer  of  all  things  so  to  influence  the  conduct  of  men,  is 
not  a  person  to  be  reasoned  with,  but  to  be  pitied.  ^ 

How  anomalous  facts  in  history  are  to  he  explained.  —  The 
history  of  distant  countries  and  past  ages  affords  some  perplexi- 
ties in  this  view  of  the  subject,  precisely  because  it  is  a  very 
imperfect  description  of  men  and  events  that  are  little  known. 
We  are  prone  to  consider  nations  as  individuals,  morally  respon- 
sible, and  having  a  continuous  life ;  and  hence  to  require  that 
their  external  fortunes  should  be  adjusted  to  their  deserts,  and  <yr 
thus  the  justice  of  God  be  vindicated  on  a  large  scale.  Why, 
then,  we  ask,  for  instance,  were  the  Northern  barbarians  allowed 
to  overrun  what  was  then  the  only  enlightened  portion  of  the 
globe,  and  to  tread  out  all  but  the  last  spark  of  learning  and 
civilization,  as  it  seemed,  for  centuries  to  come  ?  I  answer, 
first,  that  the  researches  of  modern  historians  and  philosophical 


344  THE   MORAL    LAW    ENFORCED. 

inquirers  have  fully  established  the  jioint,  that  this  seeming 
deluge  of  barbarism  actually  renovated  a  soil  that  had  become 
effete,  and  |)lanted  in  it  the  fresh  seeds  of  knowledge  and  pro- 
gress, which  afterwards  shot  up  i*i  such  luxuriance  at  the  Re- 
vival of  Letters.  If  a  stranger,  wholly  unacquainted  with  the 
circumstances  of  the  case,  should  happen  to  visit  Egypt  at  the 
season  when  all  its  cultivated  fields  are  under  water,  and  the 
inhabitants  are  compelled  to  move  about  in  boats,  he  would 
probably  conclude  that  the  inundation  of  the  Nile  was  a  judg- 
^  ment  upon  the  people  for  their  sins.  I  answer,  secondly,  that 
a  nation  has  only  a  fictitious  unity  and  personality,  individuals 
being  the  only  actual  subjects  of  the  Divine  government.  Now 
history  teaches  us  but  very  little  about  individuals,  except  of 
the  few  who  occupy  thrones  or  other  prominent  stations  in  the 
state,  and  who,  from  the  very  peculiarity  of  their  position,  afford 
us  no  safe  rule  by  which  we  can  estimate  the  characters  and 
fortunes  of  the  multitude.  If,  therefore,  when  w^e  trace  the  for- 
tunes of  nations,  the  operation  of  the  law  is  not  very  manifest, 
this  is  precisely  what  we  might  expect.  Let  the  inquirer  take 
the  history  of  a  single  person, —  especially  his  own  history,  the 
only  one  that  he  can  know  thoroughly,  —  and  the  fact  that  he 
lives  under  the  Divine  government  becomes  far  more  obvious. 
Let  him  inquire  whether  his  own  situation  and  experience  fur- 
nish greater  inducements  for  the  practice  of  virtue  or  vice,  and 
(f  there  is  little  fear  that  he  will  arrive  at  a  false  conclusion. 

It  is  true,  then,  in  the  moral  as  well  as  the  physical  sense, 
that  God  governs  the  earth,  —  governs  it,  too,  in  both  ca:^s,  not 
by  secondary  causes  or  vicarious  means,  but  by  the  direct  and 
constant  exertion  of  his  own  wisdom  and  power.  The  belief  of 
the  pious  heart  is  also  the  conclusion  of  the  enlightened  under- 
standing, that  the  will  of  the  Almighty  determines  all  events, 
and  disposes  them  for  good.  Science  adopts  and  sanctions  the 
theory  of  religion  in  regard  to  an  overruling-Provideuce  ;  —  the 
theory  which  discerns  a  moral  purpose  in  all  things,  maintain- 
ing that  they  were  specially  designed  to  produce  a  certain  effect 
on  the  character  and  the  conduct ;  which  subordinates  the 
physical  to  the  moral,  considering  the  former  as  means,  and  the 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  345 

latter  as  an  end ;  which  regards  life  as  a  gift  and  a  trust,  to  be 
exercised  for  certain  purposes,  and  death  as  a  warning  and  a 
token  that,  in  a  particular  case,  these  purposes  have  been 
accompUshed. 


CHAPTER    VI. 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 


Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  The  brief  examination,  in  the 
last  chapter,  of  the  contents  of  the  law  imprinted  upon  the  con- 
science, of  the  nature  of  the  precepts  which  it  issues  for  our  ob- 
servance, was  intended  to  prove,  that  these  injunctions  reveal  to 
us  the  character  and  attributes,  as  well  as  the  purposes,  of  the 
Almighty.  They  do  so,  because  they  answer  no  lower  purpose  ; 
they  are  not  suhservient  as  means  to  any  end  hut  this.  They  were 
not  required  to  stimulate  the  body  or  mind  to  exertion,  or  to 
direct  that  exertion,  or  to  preserve  and  uphold  the  arrangements 
and  the  workings  of  the  material  universe.  They  are  of  abso- 
lute obhgation,  so  that  the  advantages  which  the  observance  of 
them  actually  procures  are  to  be  considered  as  their  guards  and 
enforcers,  not  as  their  purpose  or  final  cause.  Consequently, 
they  are,  to  the  human  mind  which  receives  them,  a  revelation 
of  pure  w^ill,  or  a  manifestation  of  the  Divine  nature  and  glory, 
irrespective  of  any  purposes  which  may  be  answered  by  the  dis- 
play. Requiring  perfection,  or  unlimited  obedience,  they  show 
the  perfections  of  their  Author. 

The  scheme  of  Divine  government,  I  attempted  to  show, 
includes  a  system  of  rewards  and  punishments,  which  follow 
immediately  upon  the  observance  or  transgression  of  the  law. 
Human  life  presents  so  many  instances  of  these  as  to  make  the 
conclusion  irresistible,  that  the  current  of  this  world's  affairs, 


346  THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 

the  natural  course  of  events,  is  superintended  and  directed  wiib 
a  view  to  moral  retribution.  The  object  of  the  pains  and  pleas- 
ures which  we  experience,  whether  they  grow  out  of  our  con- 
nection with  the  body,  appearing  as  health  or  disease ;  or  out 
of  the  relations  which  bind  men  together  in  society,  then  taking 
the  form  of  success  or  failure  in  life,  and  of  the  honors  and' 
penalties  which  society  has  to  bestow  ;  or  out  of  the  constitution 
of  the  mind  itself,  in  the  various  forms  and  degrees  of  remorse 
or  inward  gratification  and  the  consciousness  of  merit ;  —  the 
object,  I  say,  in  all  these  cases,  is  to  uphold  and  enforce  the 
law  of  right.  That  the  incidents  of  life  are  distributed  with  a 
view  to  this  end  is  the  general  rule ;  the  apparent  instances  of 
an  unequal  or  fortuitous  distribution  of  them  are  only  apparent, 
and  they  are  the  exce|)tions.  There  are  a  few  seeming  anoma- 
lies, which  are  most  apt  to  present  themselves  in  the  considera- 
tion of  those  cases  of  which  we  know  the  least,  —  for  instance, 
of  historical  personages  and  events,  —  while  they  very  seldom 
trouble  one's  retrospect  of  his  own  experience ;  here,  knowing 
all,  he  knows  that  the  law  is  carried  out  completely.  And  the 
proper  conclusion,  from  the  presence  of  such  anomalies  as  we 
cannot  explain,  is,  not  that  the  doctrine  of  a  superintending 
Providence  must  be  given  up  akogether,  that  doctrine  being 
supported  by  the  vast  majority  of  cases,  but  that  we  do  not 
always  know  how  such  a  Providence  acts.  It  is  certain  that 
we  are  under  a  scheme  of  government ;  but  we  are  not  able  to 
follow  all  the  workings  of  that  scheme,  or  to  assure  ourselves^ 
from  direct  observation,  that  it  is  perfect.  The  behef  of  the 
pious  mind  is  hereby  amply  confirmed,  that  all  events  which 
affect  our  personal  welfare,  are  dispensations  of  almighty  wis- 
dom and  justice. 

The  infliction  of  fain  not  inconsistent  with  benevolence.  —  It 
has  not  been  without  design,  that  I  have  placed  the  argument 
for  the  moral  government  of  God  by  a  system  of  rewards  and 
punishments  before  the  consideration  of  the  evidences  of  the 
Divine  benevolence,  though  this  is  reversing  the  order  usually 
adopted  by  writers  upon  the  subject.  But  it  is  certain  that  the 
claims  of  justice  are   superior  to  those   of  mere   benevolence. 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  347 

We  are  required  to  do  good  to  our  fellow-beings  so  far  as  we 
can  without  violating  other  and  higher  obligations ;  we  ought 
not  to  deprive  another  of  that  which  is  rightfully  his  own,  or  to 
utter  an  untruth,  or  to  break  our  pledged  faith,  even  for  the 
sake  of  benefiting  millions,  while  the  wrong  would  be  felt  only 
by  an  individual.  Nay,  as  the  appointed  ministers  of  justice,  it 
may  often  be  our  duty  to  inflict  suffering,  and  to  stifle  the  emo- 
tions of  sympathy  and  compassion  which  prompt  us  only  to 
increase  his  happiness.  What  is  done  from  such  motives  is  no 
imputation  upon  the  benevolence  of  the  individual ;  liis  heart 
may  be  overflowing  with  love  to  his  neighbor,  at  the  very  mo- 
ment when  he  is  doing  him  harm,  or  is  the  minister  of  the  laAV 
to  him  for  a  righteous  retribution.  And  generally,  we  may 
say,  that  the  measure  of  immediate  happiness  or  pain  which  is 
dispensed  by  any  being  is  a  very  imperfect  criterion  of  the  real 
goodness  of  his  disposition.  The  surgeon,  for  instance,  is  not 
necessarily  a  hardhearted  man,  though  he  passes  his  life  in 
causing  pain  to  others ;  he  intends,  indeed,  to  benefit  them  ulti- 
mately ;  but  the  benefit  is  remote  and  contingent,  while  the  suf- 
fering caused  by  the  operation  is  immediate  and  certain.  In 
like  manner,  it  may  be  better  for  the  criminal  himself,  it  may 
be  more  for  his  highest  and  most  permanent  interest,  that  he 
should  be  punished  for  his  present  offence,  than  that  he  should 
be  permitted  to  sin  with  impunity.  Yet  men  have  argued  as  if 
the  presence  of  any  pain,  the  existence  of  any  suffering,  in  the 
moral  universe,  was  a  fact  irreconcilable  with  the  infinite  be- 
nevolence of  the  Creator. 

Punishment  for  wrong-doing  is  consistent  with  benevolence.  — 
I  do  not  dwell  upon  this  consideration  now,  as  a  better  occasion 
will  arise  for  developing  it  afterwards.  I  have  alluded  to  it 
here  only  to  remind  you,  that,  as  the  obligation  to  promote  the 
happiness  of  others,  is  always  secondary  to  the  demands  of  jus- 
tice, we  may  at  once,  in  estimating  the  proofs  of  the  benevolence 
of  the  Deity,  leave  out  of  the  account  entirely  all  the  pain  which 
is  evidently  produced  for  the  punishment  and  repression  of  sin. 
And  how  great  is  the  deduction  that  will  thus  be  made  from  the 
amount  of  suffering  in  the  world !     How  large  a  portion  of  the 


348  THE    GOODNICSS    OF    GOD. 

evils  borne  both  by  individuals  and  communities  are  attributable 
directly  to  their  own  misconduct,  to  their  wilful  disregard  of  the 
monitions  of  conscience  !  The  bodily  frame,  which  is  now  lan- 
guid from  inaction  or  enfeebled  by  disease,  might  have  been 
active  and  vigorous,  prompt  to  second  every  wish  of  its  owner, 
and  ministering  to  his  enjoyment  through  every  sense,  joint, 
and  limb.  The  community  which  is  now  torn  with  civil  dis- 
sensions, or  prostrated  in  an  unequal  strife  with  its  rivals,  might 
have  been  peaceful,  affluent,  and  flourishmg,  if  its  rulers  and 
their  subjects  had  heeded  the  stern  calls  of  duty,  instead  of 
blindly  following  their  own  tumultuous  passions.  Once  admit 
the  great  truth,  that  virtue^  not  happiness,  is  man's  highest  iu' 
terest,  and  most  of  the  pains  of  this  life  indicate  the  goodness  of 
God  •  quite  as  clearly  as  its  pleasures.  Consider,  further,  that 
virtue  must  be  spontaneous  or  self-cultivated,  since  what  is 
compulsory  or  mechanical  can  afford  no  ground  either  for 
praise  or  blame,  and  most  of  the  problems  which  would  other- 
wise perplex  us  in  a  view  of  this  world's  affairs  admit  of  an  easy 
solution. 

Proofs  of  a  preponderance  of  happiness.  —  But  our  present 
object  is  to  inquire,  w^hether  there  be  not,  on  the  whole,  a  vast 
preponderance  of  enjoyment  in  the  world,  from  which,  without 
troubling  ourselves  yet  about  the  presence  of  evil  in  a  few 
cases,  we  may  directly  infer  the  kindness  and  benignity  of  the 
Supreme  Being.  .  It  is  hardly  possible  to  add  any  thing  to 
Paley's  admirable  summary  of  the  argument  upon  this  point, 
nor  can  the  heads  of  it  be  more  forcibly  or  succinctly  stated 
than  in  his  language.  The  first  proposition  is,  "  That  in  a  vast 
plurality  of  instances  in  which  contrivance  is  perceived,  the  de- 
sign of  the  contrivance  is  beneficial ; "  the  second,  "  That  the 
Deity  has  superadded  pleasure  to  anunal  sensations  beyond 
what  was  necessary  to  any  other  purpose,  or  when  the  purpose, 
6o  far  as  it  was  necessary,  might  have  been  effected  by  the  op- 
eration of  pain." 

His  assertion,  however,  that  evil  is  never  the  object  of  con- 
trivance, needs  to  be  explained  and  limited,  before  we  can  ad- 
mit it.     JEvil  here  does  not  mean  mere  pain^  for  this,  I  believe, 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  349 

is  often  intended  and  provided  for,  both  to  punish  wrong,  and  to 
warn  us  against  danger.  But  the  distribution  of  this  pain  indi- 
cates pure  benevolence  united  with  perfect  justice.  It  is  never 
placed  where  it  is  not  needed  for  some  higher  purpose ;  and 
therefore  it  is  never  the  ultimate  object  of  contrivance.*  It  is 
needed,  for  instance,  to  discourage  and  repress  wrong-doing,  — 
the  moral  education  of  man  being  here  the  final  aim  of  the  ar- 
rangement. So  the  physiologists  tell  us,  that  the  parts  of  the 
body  which  are  most  delicate  and  most  exposed  to  injury  from 
without,  are  rendered  most  acutely  sensitive ;  while  those  which 
are  guarded  in  the  main  by  their  position,  are  not  liable  to  pain. 
A  mote,  a  grain  of  dust,  in  the  eye,  causes  an  intolerable  smart ; 
while  the  deeply  seated  muscles  and  tendons  may  be  cut  or  torn 
almost  without  the  consciousness  of  suffering.  There  are  good 
reasons  to  believe,  that  the  sensibility  of  the  lower  animals  to 
pain  is  very  shght,  a  warning  of  danger  being  comparatively 
useless  to  them,  who  have  not  reason  and  foresight  to  take 

^  As  an  apology  for  venturing  tx>  criticize  this  masterly  argument  by 
Paley,  I  quote  the  whole  of  it,  since  it  is  unrivalled  for  vigor,  simplicity, 
and  conclusiveness. 

"  Contrivance  proves  design ;  and  the  predominant  tendency  of  the 
contrivance  indicates  the  disposition  of  the  designer.  The  world  abounds 
with  contrivances  ;  and  all  the  contrivances  which  we  ax*e  acquainted  with, 
are  directed  to  beneficial  purjjoscs.  Evil,  no  doubt,  exists ;  but  is  never, 
that  we  can  perceive,  the  object  of  contrivance.  Teeth  are  contrived  to 
eat,  not  to  ache ;  their  aching  now  and  then  is  incidental  to  the  con- 
trivance, perhaps  inseparable  from  it ;  or  even,  if  you  will,  let  it  be  called 
a  defect  in  the  contrivance ;  but  it  is  not  the  ohject  of  it.  This  is  a  dis- 
tinction which  well  deserves  to  be  attended  to.  In  describing  implements 
of  husbandry,  you  would  hardly  say  of  the  sickle,  that  it  is  made  to  cut 
the  reaper's  fingers,  though,  from  the  construction  of  the  instrument,  and 
the  manner  of  using  it,  this  mischief  often  happens.  But  if  you  had 
occasion  to  describe  instruments  of  torture  or  execution,  —  this  engine, 
you  would  say,  is  to  extend  the  sinews  ;  this  to  dislocate  the  joints ;  this 
to  break  the  bones ;  this  to  scorch  the  soles  of  the  feet.  Here,  pain  and 
misery  are  the  very  objects  of  the  contrivance.  Now,  nothing  of  this  sort 
is  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  nature.  We  never  discover  a  train  of  con- 
trivance to  bring  about  an  evil  purpose.  No  anatomist  ever  discovered  a 
system  of  organization  calculated  to  produce  pain  and  disease ;  or,  in 
explaining  the  parts  of  the  human  body,  ever  said,  This  is  to  irritate ; 

30 


350  THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 

measures  to  avert  it.  The  horse  and  the  cow,  when  shockingly 
wounded  in  the  lower  extremities,  have  been  observed  to  move 
about,  even  upon  their  bloody  stumps,  and  to  graze  with  appa- 
rent unconcern.  The  head  of  a  dragon-fly  will  eat  after  it  is 
severed  from  the  body ;  and  Mr.  Kirby  saw  a  cockchafer  walk- 
ing with  no  show  of  uneasiness,  after  a  bird  had  almost  wholly 
deprived  its  body  of  the  viscera.     The  noted  saying,  that 

"  the  poor  beetle  which  we  tread  upon. 
In  corporal  sufferance,  feels  a  pang  as  great 
As  when  a  giant  dies," 

however  calculated  to  extend  the  range  of  our  sympathies,  cer- 
tainly contains  more  poetry  than  truth. 

Enjoyment  is  the  rule,  pain  is  only  the  exceptio7i.  — -  But  we 
are  more  concerned  now  to  observe,  that  in  unnumbered  in- 
stances throughout  God's  creation,  the  production  of  happiness 
is  the  sole  object  of  the  contrivance.  The  7iatiiral  operatioa 
of  all  the  senses,  organs,  and  faculties  is  a  source   of  pleasure. 

this  to  inflame ;  this  duct  is  to  convey  the  gravel  to  the  kidneys ;  this 
gland  to  secrete  the  humor  which  forms  the  gout :  if  by  chance  he  comes 
at  a  part  of  which  he  knows  not  the  use,  the  most  he  can  say  is,  that  it  is 
useless;,  no  one  ever  suspects  that  it  is  put  there  to  incommode,  to  an- 
noy, or  to  torment.  Since,  then,  God  has  called  forth  his  consummate 
wisdom  to  contrive  and  provide  for  our  happiness,  and  the  world  appears 
to  be  constituted  with  this  design  at  first ;  so  long  as  this  constitution  is 
upholden  by  him,  we  must  in  reason  suppose  the  same  design  to  continue. 
"  The  contemplation  of  universal  nature  rather  bewilders  the  mind  than 
affects  it.  There  is  always  a  bright  spot  in  the  prospect,  upon  which  the 
eye  rests ;  a  single  example,  perhaps,  by  which  each  man  finds  himself 
more  convinced  than  by  all  others  put  together.  I  seem,  for  my  own  part, 
to  see  the  benevolence  of  the  Deity  more  clearly  in  the  pleasures  of  very 
young  children,  than  in  any  thing  in  the  world.  The  pleasures  of  grown 
persons  may  be  reckoned  partly  of  their  own  procuring ;  especially  if  there 
has  been  any  industry  or  contrivance  or  pursuit  to  come  at  them ;  or  if  they 
are  founded,  like  music,  painting,  etc.,  upon  any  qualification  of  their  own 
acquiring.  But  the  pleasures  of  a  healthy  infant  are  so  manifestly  pro- 
vided for  it  by  another,  and  the  benevolence  of  the  provision  is  so  unques- 
tionable, that  every  child  I  see  at  its  sport,  affords  to  my  mind  a  kind  of 
sensible  evidence  of  the  finger  of  God,  and  of  the  disposition  which  di- 
rects it." 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  351 

It  is  sweet  to  see,  to  hear,  to  eat,  to  breathe,  to  perform  any  of 
the  ordinary  functions  of  life,  when  the  body  is  in  its  normal 
state.  There  is  just  enough  of  uneasiness,  recurring  at  inter- 
vals, to  remind  us  of  the  work  that  must  be  done  in  order  to 
keep  the  body  in  this  healthy  condition.  Even  the  'conscious- 
ness of  living,  of  continued  existence,  under  common  circum- 
stances, is  agreeable ;  for  thosar  who  are  most  apt  to  complain 
of  the  burden  of  existence  would  resent  the  proposal,  if  you 
should  offer  immediately  to  rid  them  of  it.  It  is  finely  observed 
by  Abraham  Tucker,  that  our  "  pleasures  spring  from  steady, 
permanent  causes,  as  the  vigor  of  health,  the  due  returns  of  ap- 
petite, and  calls  of  nature  to  exercise  or  rest ;  but  pains  proceed 
from  accidents  which  happen  rarely,  or  diseases  which  are 
either  slight  or  temporary."  "  Even  our  troubles  come  attended 
with  their  alleviations ;  we  have  remedies  and  assistance  in 
diseases,  comfort  in  distresses,  and  hope  lies  ready  as  a  salve  for 
every  sore ;  nor  are  there  any  in  so  forlorn  a  condition,  but  may 
find  something  to  thank  God  for,  if  they  will  look  about  to  seek 
it.  Epicurus,  though  disjDOsed  to  find  all  the  faults  he  could  in 
the  system  of  nature,  yet  made  it  one  among  his  coUectron  of 
Maxims,  '  That  pain,  if  grievous,  was  short ;  if  long,  it  was 
light.' " 

Happiness  is  so  far  the  normal  condition  of  existence,  that 
we  are  hardly  conscious  of  the  extent  and  the  perpetual  suc- 
cession of  our  enjoyments,  till  something  occurs  to  interrupt 
them.  Thus,  we  mourn  the  loss  of  friends,  though  their  depart- 
ure ought  to  remind  us  of  the  length  of  years  through  which 
we  have  had  the  comfort  of  their  society.  Most  of  our  sorrows 
are  of  a  negative  character  ;  they  are  not  so  much  positive  pains, 
as  occasional  privations  of  blessings  to  which  we  have  been  long 
accustomed.  "  The  rays  of  happiness,"  a  poet  tells  us,  "  like 
those  of  light,  are  colorless  when  unbroken."  It  is  no  paradox, 
then,  to  say,  that  pains,  when  not  too  frequent  or  too  violent, 
contribute  directly  to  increase  our  conscious  enjoyments,  which 
could  not  be  perpetually  renewed  without  them.  An  attack  of 
ilBiess,  if  not  too  severe,  is  generally  more  than  compensated 
by  the  pleasure  of  returning  health,  that  comes  with  a  glow  and 


352  THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 

fresliness,  of  which  one  who  has  never  been  an  invalid  can  have 
no  conception.  But  these  pains,  because  thc}^  are  infrequent, 
stand  out  like  landmarks  in  our  remembrance,  while  the  wdde 
expanse  of  happiness  which  they  diversify  is  unnoticed  or  for- 
gotten. *Probably  the  happiest  portion  of  our  existence,  is  that 
which  leaves  the  least  impression  on  the  memory ;  and  the 
happiest  man,  is  he  whose  life  ^^ffords  the  fewest  incidents  for 
the  biographer. 

The  adaptation  of  external  nature  to  the  mitid  of  maa^  its 
fitness  to  excite  pleasurable  emotion,  is  another  proof  of  the 
beneficence  of  the  Creator.  The  beauty  of  the  vegetable  crea- 
tion, from  the  tiniest  flower  up  to  the  moss-grown  oak,  its  almost 
endless  variety  of  form  and  hue,  the  delicacy  and  high  finish 
of  its  minutest  parts,  with  the  luxuriance  and  grandeur  of  its 
aggregated  masses,  are  enough  to  stir  the  most  sluggish  soul  to 
admiration  and  gratitude.  The  useful  fmictions  of  plants  in  the 
economy  of  nature,  —  their  effects,  for  instance,  in  purifying  the 
air  and  elaborating  food  for  the  animal  kingdom,  —  might  all  be 
performed  without  this  richness  of  embellishment.  Their  beauty 
is  something  superadded,  for  no  conceivable  purpose  but  that  of 
imparting  pleasure.  And  the  ear  is  gratified  as  well  as  the  eye. 
All  natural  sounds,  —  the  song  of  birds,  the  hum  of  insects,  the 
breaking  of  waves  on  the  shore,  the  murmuring  of  the  wind 
amid  the  branches  of  a  forest,  even  the  sullen  plunge  of  the 
cataract,  and  "  the  bass  of  heaven's  great  organ,"  —  are  har- 
monious ;  the  operations  of  man  alone  jar  the  delicate  sense, 

"  Straining  harsh  discords  and  unpleasin^  sharps." 

"The  necessary  purposes  of  hearing,"  as  Paley  observes, 
"  might  have  been  answered  without  harmony ;  of  smell,  with- 
out fragrance ;  of  vision,  without  beauty.  The  properties  given 
to  the  necessaries  of  life  themselves,  by  which  they  contribute 
to  pleasure  as  well  as  preservation,  show  a  further  design  than 
that  of  giving  existence."  It  is  so  wdth  the  chief  articles  of 
food,  eating  being  certainly  necessary  for  the  continuance  of 
animal  life ;  but  "  why  add  pleasure  to  the  act  of  eating,  — 
sweetness  and  reHsh  to  food?  why  a  new  and  appropriate  sense 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  353 

for  tlie  perception  of  the  pleasure  ?  That  this  pleasure  depends, 
not  only  upon  our  being  in  possession  of  the  sense  of  taste, 
which  is  different  from  every  other,  but  upon  a  particular  state 
of  the  organ  in  which  it  resides,  a  felicitous  adaptation  of  the 
organ  to  the  object,  will  be  confessed  by  any  one  who  may  hap- 
pen to  have  experienced  that  vitiation  of  taste  which  frequently 
occurs  in  fevers,  when  every  taste  is  irregular,  and  every  one 
bad."  And  if  this  pleasure  forms  but  a  small  and  rather  ignoble 
item  among  the  enjoyments  of  man,  let  it  be  remembered  that 
it  is  spread  over  a  larg^  portion  of  the  existence  of  brutes, 
especially  of  the  ruminating  animals. 

The  pleasures  of  taste  intended  solely  to  promote  happiness.  — 
It  matters  not  at  all,  for  the  purposes  of  this  argument,  whether 
the  beauty  of  forms,  colors,  sounds,  and  the  like,  is  something 
intrinsic,  inherent  in  the  nature  of  the  things  themselves,  or  is 
superadded  by  our  modes  of  perception  ;  —  whether,  to  speak 
technically,  the  beauty  be  objective  or  suhjective.  It  is  indiffer- 
ent whether  we  say,  that  objects  are  so  constituted  as  to  impart 
pleasure  to  the  mind,  or  that  the  mind  is  so  constituted  as  to  re- 
ceive pleasure  from  them,  when  our  only  object  is  to  prove,  that 
the  pleasure  itself  is  actual  and  abundant.  In  truth,  I  can  see 
no  reason  why  the  emotions  of  beauty  and  sublimity  were  added 
to  our  mental  faculties,  except  the  mere  purpose  of  enlarging 
the  sphere  of  our  enjoyments.  They  do  not  conduce  to  the 
preservation  of  life,  they  are  not  needed  to  keep  up  society,  or 
to  influence  our  conduct.  They  often  stimulate  to  action,  it  is 
true ;  for  when  we  have  once  experienced  the  pleasure  that  they 
afford,  we  desire  its  repetition,  and  seek  the  objects  which 
occasion  them.  But  this  is  only  their  secondary  effect ;  and  it 
is  neither  certain  nor  necessary,  the  stimulus  to  activity  which 
is  otherwise  provided  being  stronger  and  quite  suiRcient.  They 
are  copious  sources  of  delight,  which  is  often  vivid  and  in^nse, 
and  is  shared  in  a  greater  or  less  degree  by  all ;  this  is  the  only 
important  part  which  they  play  in  the  economy  of  our  being, 
and  is  the  obvious  purpose  for  which  they  were  created. 

TJiese  pleasures  adapted  to  all  ages  and  conditions.  —  Ac- 
knowledged differences  of  taste  form  no  argument  against  the 

30* 


854    ■  THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 

reality  and  abundance  of  tlie  pleasure  which  every  person  re- 
ceives from  tliis  endowment  of  his  nature,  however  mistaken 
his  jiotions  may  be  as  to  the  beauty  or  sublimity  of  particular 
objects.  A  child's  delight  in  a  daub  of  bright  colors,  or  an 
unmeaning  jingle  of  sounds,  is  as  real  and  hearty  as  the  con- 
noisseur's appreciation  of  the  merits  of  a  Raphael  or  a  Mozart. 
Indeed,  I  count  the  flexibility  of  these  emotions,  the  numberless 
occasions  on  which  they  rise,  their  adaptation  to  all  ages  and 
conditions  of  life,  and  the  rapid  changes  which  cultivation  effects 
in  them,  among  the  perfections  of  their  contrivance,  when  re- 
garded as  a  means  of  enlarging  human  happiness.  We  have 
thus  a  greater  range  and  variety  in  our  pleasures,  every  stage 
in  otir  existence  and  education  having  its  own  peculiar  stock  of 
them,  every  day  contributing  some  new  occasion  on  which  they 
are  felt,  and  the  effect  of  familiarity  and  repetition  in  dulling  the 
sense  of  enjoyment  being  thus  completely  obviated.  We  see 
here  a  reason  for  that  infinite  variety  in  the  details  of  the 
material  universe,  amidst  which,  as  I  remarked  on  a  former 
occasion,  we  trace  the  threads  of  uniformity  and  the  prevalence 
of  law.  In  the  glorious  mass  of  foliage  which  crowns  an  oak, 
it  was  then  observed,  there  are  no  two  leaves  which  perfectly 
resemble  each  other ;  and  I  may  now  add,  that  there  is  not  one 
of  them  which  is  not  graceful.  Objects  are  seen  under  differ- 
ent and  very  dissimilar  aspects,  and  under  all,  contribute  largely, 
if  not  equally,  to  the  pleasure  of  the  beholder.  No  two  sun- 
sets are  exactly  alike,  nor  is  there  one  mass  of  white  cloud  on 
the  blue  sky  which  is  the  very  pattern  of  another.  The  changes 
of  the  seasons  are  continually  altering  the  appearance  of  the 
landscape  ;  every  month  in  the  year  it  images  a  new  feeling,  but 
never  lapses  into  ugliness. 

Variety  and  wide  diffusion  of  these  pleasures.  —  I  have 
dwelt  thus  long  upon  the  pleasures  of  taste,  because  the  capac- 
ity for  them,  more  than  any  other  part  of  our  constitution,  seems 
to  have  been  created  for  the  sole  purpose  of  increasing  the  store 
of  human  happiness.  Let  it  not  be  thought,  on  account  of  their 
gentle  and  unobtrusive  character,  and  the  trifling  value  which 
we  put  upon  them  in  moments  of  excitement,  or  when  we  think 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  355 

that  greater  interests  are  at  stake,  that  they  form  an  insignifi- 
cant addition  to  that  store.  They  are  diffused,  so  to  speak,  over 
the  whole  plain  of  human  existence,  making  up,  by  their  variety, 
their  duration,  and  their  constant  recurrence,  for  their  lack  of 
intensity,  and  the  slightness  of  their  hold  when  the  stronger  pas- 
sions assert  their  power.  The  pleasures  of  ambition,  pomj), 
and  power  visit  us  only  in  lightning  flashes,  as  brief  as  they  arc 
vivid ;  they  are  often  purchased,  also,  at  a  heavy  sacrifice  ;  they 
are  crossed  by  the  pains  of  failure  and  disappointment ;  and  eve:i 
the  hapi^iness  wliich  they  are  thought  to  constitute,  is  moi'e 
properly  ascribed  to  the  toil  and  effort  which  we  expend  in  their 
pursuit.  But  the  enjoyments  procured  by  the  faculty  of  taste 
are  unmingled  with  losses  and  sacrifices,  and,  for  the  most  part, 
are  unbought.  They  come  to  cheer  the  intervals  of  exertion, 
and  to  speed  the  long  hours  which  are  not  filled  with  gra-\c 
cares  or  enterprises  of  great  pith  and  moment.  They  form  the 
relaxation  alike  of  the  monarch  on  his  throne  and  of  the  pea::^- 
ant  in  liis  hut ;  the  social  instinct  prompts  each  to  seek  com- 
panionship,, and  the  conversation  which  turns  not  upon  business 
or  causes  of  anxiety,  is  prolonged  merely  for  pleasure  into  an 
idle  chat.  A  company  of  laborers,  talking  around  the  fire  after 
the  day's  work  is  ended,  experience  this  delight  quite  as  strongly 
as  the  crowd  which  fills  the  apartments  of  the  fashionable  and 
the  learned.  "  It  is  a  happy  world  after  all."  In  spite  of  all 
the  labors,  cares,  and  troubles  of  life,  we  still  spend  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  our  time  merely  in  amusing  ourselves. 

The  capacity  of  happiness  adapted  to  all  beings  and  all  con- 
ditions of  life.  —  The  wide  diffusion  of  these  simple  pleasures 
suggests  another  arrangement  in  natur§,  which  affords  still 
stronger  proof  of  the  benevolence  of  the  Deity ;  —  I  mean  the 
adaptation  of  the  capacity  of  happiness  to  all  orders  of  being 
and  to  all  conditions  of  life.  Considered  in  reference  to  its 
sources  and  occasions,  happiness  is  not  an  absolute,  but,  a  rela- 
tive term.  When  we  say,  that  any  creature  is  as  happy  as  it  is 
capable  of  being,  we  express  its  perfect  enjoyment ;  the  low- 
ness  of  the  capacity  does  not  lessen  this  perfection.  The  causes 
and  nature  of  the  enjoyment  may  make  it  very  unsuitable  for  a 


856  THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 

being  of  a  different  order,  or  for  one  of  the  same  order,  but  of 
different  pursuits  and  tastes.  Still,  it  is  real  and  perfect,  and  in 
this  argument,  tliercfore,  is  entitled  to  just  as  much  weight  as 
pleasure  of  a  higher  character.  But  we  are  all  prone  to  erect 
our  own  ides^  upon  this  subject  into  an  absolute  standard,  and 
to  pity  all  who  do  not  come  up  to  our  peculiar  notions  of  happi- 
ness ;  we  do  not  always  remember,  that,  very  likely,  the  ob- 
jects of  our  compassion  are,  at  the  same  moment,  pitying  us. 
This  propensity  leads  us  gi'eatly  to  overrate  the  amount  of 
misery  that  there  is  in  the  world,  when,  if  we  would  but  reflect 
upon  it,  the  propensity  itself  is  an  additional  indication  of  the 
goodness  of  God ;  each  individual  supposes  that  his  own  happi- 
ness is  the  highest  possible  happiness,  and  his  enjoyment  is 
naturally  enhanced  by  this  belief.  Ideas  of  what  constitute 
pleasure  and  pain  vary  more  widely  than  we  are  apt  to  imagine, 
especially  if  we  include  the  lower  animals  in  the  survey.  To 
take  the  strongest  instance  that  I  can  think  of;  —  the  sight  of 
a  wild  beast  eagerly  tearing  and  devouring  the  prey  that  it  has 
just  seized,  makes  us  shudder ;  yet  the  animal  is  then  experienc- 
ing the  keenest  enjoyment  that  it  is  capable  of,  and  if,  as  is 
generally  the  case,  the  prey  is  instantly  killed  by  its  captor,  so 
that  there  is  little  or  no  suffering  on  either  side,  the  spectacle, 
apart  from  its  effect  on  our  involuntaiy  sympathies,  ought  rather 
to  make  us  rejoice.  We  look  upon  the  condition  of  a  tribe 
of  savages  with  similar  feelings,  and,  so  far  as  mere  happi- 
ness is  concerned,  we  almost  equally  misjudge  the  case.  Pity 
them,  if  you  will,  for  not  being  able  to  appreciate  your  refined 
and  elevated  pleasures,  but  for  nothing  else,  since  they  are  not 
only  unconscious  of  suffering,  but,  for  most  of  the  time,  they 
are  enjoying  themselves.  We  are  shocked  by  the  ignorance  of 
great  multitudes  of  men,  and  the  feehng  is  a  proper  one  in 
regard  to  their  future,  as  the  want  of  instruction  frequently 
leads  to  crime ;  but  in  connection  with  our  present  topic,  we 
ought  to  remember  that  ignorance  is  often  bliss.  Information 
on  many  points  would  only  breed  discontent. 

Tucker  on  the  distribution  of  happiness.  —  These  considera- 
tions seem  to  me  to  have  so  much  weight,  that  I  cannot  regard 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  357 

Abraham  Tucker's  animated  picture  of  the  distribution  of  hap- 
piness as  at  all  exaggerated.  "  We  should  cease,"  he  says,  "  to 
measure  others'  satisfaction  by  our  own  standard,  and  to  think 
nothing  desirable  to  them  which  we  would  not  choose  for  our- 
selves ;  we  shall  then  discern  a  variety  of  tastes  adapted  to  the 
several  conditions  wherein  men  are  placed,  and  things  which 
are  irksome  at  first,  becoming  pleasant  by  custom.  We  may  see 
that  children  have  their  plays  ;  the  vulgar  their  amusements, 
coarse  jokes,  and  May-games  ;  even  folly  does  not  exclude 
pleasure,  nor  poverty  banish  contentment.  There  is  as  much 
mirth  in  the  kitchen  as  the  parlor,  and  as  great  diversion  in  a 
country  fair  or  a  cricket-match,  as  at  a  card  assembly  or  a 
ridotto.  The  cobbler  whistles  at  his  stall ;  the  dairy-maid 
sings  while  she  is  milking ;  the  ploughman  munches  his  mouldy 
crusts  with  as  good  a  relish  as  the  rich  man  eats  his  dainties 
with,  for  he  has  that  best  of  sauces,  hunger,  to  season  his 
victuals.  Labor  purifies  the  blood,  invigorates  the  limbs, 
strengthens  the  digestion,  insures  quiet  sleep,  and  renders  the 
body  proof  against  changes  and  inclemencies  ot  weather;  all 
which  are  considerable  articles  in  the  enjoyment  of  life,  nor  can 
their  loss  be  compensated  by  any  enjoyment  of  family,  fortune, 
learning,  and  politeness.  Nor  is  the  lowest  herdsman  incapable 
of  that  sincerest  of  pleasures,  the  consciousness  of  acting  right ; 
for  rectitude  does  not  consist  in  extensiveness  of  knowledge,  but 
in  doing  the  best  according  'to  the  lights  afforded  ;  and  many 
artisans,  servants,  and  laborers,  find  as  much  satisfaction  in  ful- 
filling the  duties  of  their  station,  as  the  philosopher  in  his  re- 
searches into  nature.  Nor  need  we  stop  at  the  human  species ; 
for  the  brute  creation,  too,  exhibits  scenes  agreeable  for  the 
good-natured  man  to  look  upon  ;  he  may  rejoice  to  see  the  cat- 
tle sporting  in  the  fields,  to  hear  the  birds  singing  and  chirping 
out  their  joys,  to  behold  the  swallow  building  nests  to  hatch  her 
young,  the  ant  laying  in  stores  of  provision  for  her  future  ac- 
commodation, the  flies,  in  a  summer  evening,  dancing  together 
in  wanton  mazes,  the  little  pucerons  in  water  frisking  nimbly 
about,  as  if  delighted  with  their  existence.  Whoever  has  a 
heart  to  enjoy  such  contemplations,  will  be  apt  to  pursue  them 


358  THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 

until  he  has  satisfied  himsolf,  that  there  is  a  much  greater  quan- 
tity of  enjoyment  than  sutiering  upon  earth." 

Why  there  is  no  absolute  standard  of  happiness.  —  Suppose 
that  the  belief  which  every  individual  is  prone  to  entertain  on 
this  subject,  were  well  founded ;  suppose  that  there  were  an 
absolute  standard  of  happiness,  as  there  is  of  |>^irtue.  Is  it  not 
obvious,  in  the  iirst  case,  that  all  the  lower  orders  of  being,  dif- 
fering fundamentally  in  their  endowments  and  constitutions 
from  man,  would  be  as  incapable  of  enjoyment  as  they  now  are 
of  rectitude  ?  Deprived  of  all  access  to  refined  and  elevated 
pleasures  by  the  coarseness  of  their  organization,  and  the  ruder 
delights  of  eating  and  mere  bodily  activity  being  struck  out 
of  the  scale,  what  would  remain  to  them  but  the  life  (if  we 
may  call  it  by  that  name)  of  a  machine,  or,  in  other  words, 
mere  senselessness  and  the  incapacity  either  of  joy  or  woe  ? 
Again,  unless  all  the  differences  of  character  and  variety  of  tal- 
ents and  occupations,  which  now  distinguish  men  from  each 
other,  were  done  away,  the  establishment  in  their  minds  of  but 
one  standard  of  happiness  would  deprive  all  but  an  insignificant 
fraction  of  their  number  of  any  experience  of  pleasure.  If  this 
standard  were  accommodated  to  man's  character,  the  child 
could  not  rise  to  it;  if  it  were  suited  only  to  the  cultivated 
mind,  the  savage  would  have  no  compensation  for  the  evils  of 
his  lot ;  if  it  had  regard  to  difference  of  sex,  one  half  of  the 
human  family  would  be  joyless.  If  it  were  made  known  to  all, 
in  the  absoluteness  of  its  conditions,  just  as  the  standard  of  rec- 
titude is,  even  the  few  could  have  bufc  partial  enjoyment ;  for 
perfection  in  happiness  would  be  as  unattainable  as  perfection 
in  morals.  There  must  be  such  a  standard,  for  absolute  happi- 
ness alone  can  express  the  condition  of  an  omnipotent  and  om- 
niscient Being;  but  in  his  mercy,  it  is  not  revealed  to  man  in 
this  stage  of  existence,  nor  to  any  of  the  creatures  which  He 
has  made.  Yet  such  a  revelation  would  be  consistent  with  mere 
justice ;  for  the  pleasures  of  virtue  alone  would  satisfy  all  the 
requisitions  of  the  moral  sense.  Men  might  be  made  happy 
only  in  proportion  as  they  were  good.  Now,  indeed,  their 
pleasures  are  enhanced  by  the  consciousness  of  rectitude ;  but 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  359 

they  are  not  wholly  destroyed  by  the  recollection  of  sin.  God 
sendeth  his  rain  alike  on  the  just  and  the  unjust,  his  govern- 
ment being  one  not  merely  of  absolute  rectitude,  but  of  perfect 
love. 

The  kind  affections  prove  the  benevolence  of  God,  —  I  shall  al- 
lude to  but  one  other  proof  of  the  benevolence  of  God,  and 
that  is,  the  endowment  of  the  mind  with  benevolent  affections, 
care  being  thus  shown  for  the  happiness  of  all,  by  rendering 
men  the  guardians  and  partakers  of  the  happiness  of  each 
other.  We  are  not  left  in  this  respect  to  the  monitions  of 
conscience  alone,  though  the  general  obligation  to  relieve  the 
distressed  and  to  do  good  to  all  is  recognized,  and  even  strongly 
inculcated,  by  that  faculty.  But  the  social  and  kind  affections 
also,  which  stand  foremost  among  our  primary  impulses,  and 
which  are  prompt  to  act  before  reason  can  come  into  play  or 
the  voice  of  conscience  be  heard,  are  so  many  ever-watchful 
sentinels  to  increase  the  j©ys  and  lessen  the  sorrows  of  our 
mortal  lot.  So  quick  and  powerful  is  their  operation,  that  the 
action  which  proceeds  from  them  seems  involuntary.  The  sight 
of  distress  prompts  an  instant  attempt  to  relieve  it,  no  matter 
who  may  be  the  sufferer.  Imminent  peril  hanging  over  the 
head  of  another,  causes  a  shuddering  in  all  our  hmbs,  as  if  our 
own  lives  were  menaced ;  and  often  the  sharp  cry  of  warning 
is  uttered,  before  reason  can  teach  us  that  the  distance  is  too 
great  for  the  voice  to  be  heard.  We  rejoice  in  the  happiness 
of  others,  though  the  difference  of  taste,  situation,  or  character 
makes  their  standard  of  enjoyment  the  farthest  possible  from 
our  own.  The  aged  are  always  the  most  ready  to  encourage 
the  sports  of  childhood,  to  join  in  the  shout  that  follows  their 
success,  and  to  please  the  infant  with  a  rattle  or  a  straw.  The 
affections  of  kindred  are  indestructible  while  life  and  sense 
remain ;  they  often  overbear  all  regard  for  our  own  comfort, 
and  a  painful  death  becomes  a  pleasant  one,  if  suffered  for  their 
sake.  Disinterestedness  is  so  prominent  a  trait  in  them,  that 
even  the  suggestion  of  their  being  alloyed  by  the  hope  of  com- 
pensation is  resented  as  an  affront.  They  often  rise  to  enthusi- 
asm, so  as  to  need  the  curb  of  reflection  and  a  sense  of  duty  to 


S66  THE    GOODNESS   OF   GOD. 

keep  them  from  a  harmful  excess.  So  exquisite  is  the  pleasure 
of  their  indulgence,  and  so  easily  are  they  brought  into  play, 
that,  when  real  occasions  to  call  them  forth  are  wanting,  we  seek 
fictitious  ones,  and  grieve  over  the  sorrows,  or  sympathize  in  the 
joys,  of  imaginary  beings.  What  direct  interest  has  the  spec- 
tator at  the  theatre,  or  the  reader  of  a  romance,  in  the  char- 
acters represented,  his  sympathy  with  whom  is  attested  by  his 
emotion  and  his  tears  ? 

"  What 's  Hecuba  to  him,  or  he  to  Hecuba, 
That  he  shonld  -vveep  for  her  ?  " 

We  can  explain  this  effect  only  by  admitting,  that  our  affec- 
tions and  sympathies  are  more  speedy  and  overpowering  than 
the  action  of  the  intellect,  which  would  teach  us,  if  it  had  time 
or  could  gain  an  audience,  that  we  were  weeping  over  shadows 
and  airy  fancies. 

Distribution  of  the  affections.  — -Consider,  now,  the  human 
mind,  figuratively,  with  its  complex  and  delicate  network  of 
faculties  and  springs  of  action,  as  a  machine  or  a  contrivance, 
the  problem  being,  how  to  constitute  it  so  as  to  take  the  gi-eatest 
possible  security  for  the  happiness  of  the  race.  What  more 
effectual  means  could  be  devised  for  this  end,  than  to  endow 
men  first  with  the  social  or  gregarious  instinct,  which  keeps 
them  always  near  to  each  other,  and  then  to  knit  their  hearts 
together  with  so  many  of  these  kindly  affections,  that  not  a 
chord  of  joy  or  sorrow  can  be  touched  in  one,  without  finding 
an  instant  response  in  many  others  ?  Observe,  too,  how  these 
affections  are  distributed  in  regard  to  their  objects,  the  strongest 
always  uniting  those  who  live  nearest  and  most  familiarly  with 
each  other,  and  who  consequently  stand  most  in  need  of  mutual 
aid,  the  assistance  that  is  most  readily  offered  being  thus  also 
always  the  nearest  at  hand ;  while  the  other  feelings  weaken, 
indeed,  as  they  expand,  but  continually  take  in  a  larger  number, 
till  that  of  general  benevolence  includes  the  whole  human  race. 
The  love,  for  instance,  which  surpasses  all  others,  is  that  of  a 
mother  for  her  child,  these  two  being  for  months  and  years  in- 
separable, and  the  latter  being  wholly  dependent  on  another's 
care. 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  361 

Indeed,  the  bodily  constitution  of  the  human  infant,  when 
compared  with  that  of  the  young  of  other  animals,  shows  that  it 
is  trusted  for  protection  and  support  almost  exclusively  to  ma- 
ternal affection  ;  and  the  trust  is  not  in  vain.  "  One  animal,*' 
says  Mr.  Stewart,  "  is  armed  with  the  horn,  another  with  the 
tusk,  a  third  with  the  paw ;  most  of  them  are  covered  with  furs, 
or  with  skins  of  a  sufficient  thickness  to  protect  them  from  the 
inclemencies  of  the  seasons ;  and  all  of  them  are  directed  by 
instinct  in  what  manner  they  may  choose  or  construct  the  most 
convenient  habitation  for  securing  themselves  from  danger,  and 
for  rearing  their  offspring.  The  human  infant  alone  enters  the 
world  naked  and  unarmed ;  exposed  without  a  covering  to  the 
fury  of  the  elements ;  surrounded  with  enemies  who  far  surpass 
him  in  strength  or  agility ;  and  totally  ignorant  in  what  way 
he  is  to  procure  the  comforts  or  even  the  necessaries  of  life." 
A  being  formed  for  tears,  says  Pliny,  but  soon  to  exercise  do- 
minion over  all  the  other  creatures  that  God  has  made ;  — 
Flens  animal,  cceteris  imperaturum. 

That  it  is  the  living  constantly  together,  and  not  some  hidden 
virtue  in  mere  kindred  blood,  which  forms  the  groundwork  of 
the  family  affections,  seems  to  me  to  be  proved  by  the  fact,  that 
long  separation  greatly  weakens  these  natural  ties,  while  the 
factitious  unions  of  marriage  and  friendship  put  others  in  their 
place  which  are  equally  effective.  Wherever  we  are  placed, 
then,  however  far  our  journeyings  may  be,  these  kindly  feelings 
spring  up  around  us  in  a  natural  growth,  the  Divinely  appointed 
guardians  of  our  happiness ;  a  removal  separates  us  from  one 
class  of  them,  but  the  loss  is  soon  repaired  by  others.  It  is 
hardly  possible  for  man  to  occupy  a  position  so  isolated,  that  he 
shall  not  be  joined  by  one  or  more  of  these  peculiar  bonds  to  a 
portion  of  his  fellows,  to  whom  he  may  look  for  especial  sym- 
pathy, consolation,  and  aid.  Even  if  all  others  should  drop 
away,  the  last  and  most  comprehensive  of  all,  which  must 
remain,  the  tie  of  a  common  origin  and  a  common  nature,  that 
makes  a  brotherhood  of  all  mankind,  is  one  of  no  mean  force. 
When  a  fit  occasion  arises,  its  strength  is  manifested.  If,  for 
instance,  the  cry  of  famine  or  pestilence  is  heard,  though  it 

31 


862  THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 

comes  from  the  uttermost  isles  of  the  sea,  from  a  people  with 
Avhora  we  have  no  relationship  or  common  interest,  the  sympa- 
thies of  all  are  excited,  and  the  means  of  relief,  if  possible,  are 
sent.  The  same  feeling,  trained  into  a  custom  and  guarded  by 
religious  sanctions,  protects  the  wandering  stranger  among  the 
robber  tribes  of  the  desert ;  the  head  even  of  the  fugitive  from 
justice  is  sacred,  when  he  has  once  tasted  of  the  salt  at  the 
chieftain's  board.  The  rights  of  hospitality  are  more  or  less 
respected  all  over  the  globe,  merely  from  a  recognition  of  tbe 
common  humanity  of  the  host  and  the  guest. 

The  kind  affections  support  each  other.  —  Observe,  also,  how 
these  feelings  intertwine  and  support  each  other.  Compassion 
is  met  by  gratitude,  the  latter  often  rising  into  heroism,  and  the 
charge  of  a  want  of  it,  next  to  the  accusation  of  falsehood, 
being  the  bitterest  reproach  that  can  be  uttered.  An  inter- 
change of  kind  offices  strengthens  the  benevolent  purposes  of 
either  party.  Maternal  love  is  repaid  by  filial  affection,  friend- 
ship by  its  like,  and  every  kindly  emotion  has  its  counterpart 
and  reward  in  the  mind  of  him  who  is  its  object.  It  is  justly 
observed  by  Mr.  Stewart,  that  "  the  peculiar  sentiment  of  appro- 
bation with  which  we  regard  the  virtue  of  beneficence  in  others, 
and  the  peculiar  satisfaction  with  which  we  reflect  on  such  of 
our  actions  as  have  contributed  to  the  happiness  of  mankind,  to 
which  we  may  add  the  exquisite  pleasure  accompanying  the 
exercise  of  all  the  kind  affections,  naturally  lead  us  to  consider 
benevolence  or  goodness  as  the  supreme  attribute  of  God.  It 
is  difficult,  indeed,  to  conceive  what  other  motive  could  have 
induced  a  Being,  completely  and  independently  happy,  to  call 
his  creatures  into  existence."  Indeed,  the  experience  of  our 
own  day  has  shown,  that  general  philanthropy  can  become  a 
profession  and  a  fascinating  pursuit.  There  is  so  much  luxury 
in  the  indulgence  of  feelings  which  point  to  the  general  im- 
provement and  moral  elevation  of  the  race,  that  they  have 
sometimes  thrown  off  the  yoke  of  reason  and  justice,  to  which 
they  are  rightfully  subject.  We  respect  or  reverence  men  for 
the  sterner  virtues  which  they  exhibit,  but  we  love  them  for 
their  benevolence,  although  the  objects  of  their  kindness  are 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  363 

persons  for  whom  we  entertain  no  peculiar  esteem.  The  mem- 
ory of  John  Howard,  for  instance,  is  as  sacred  to  us  as  if  we 
had  personally  known,  esteemed,  and  loved  every  one  of  the 
wretched  beings  to  the  improvement  of  whose  lot  Ijis  life  was 
devoted.  Considering,  then,  how  much  our  daily  comforts  and 
enjoyments  depend  upon  our  fellow  beings,  especially  upon 
those  with  whom  we  constantly  associate,  it  may  well  be  doubted, 
whether  any  other  arrangement  of  Providence  to  secure  our 
happiness  is  so  effectual,  as  that  which  animates  us  all  with  the 
spirit  of  active  love  and  kindness  towards  each  other. 

Even  the  selfishness  of  men  contributes  to  the  general  wel- 
fare. —  Still  further ;  as  men  are  dependent  upon  their  fellow 
beings  not  merely  for  sympathy  and  additional  means  of  enjoy- 
ment, but  for  necessaries  —  for  the  active  cooperation  without 
which  life  could  not  be  supported  —  not  only  are  mutual  kindly 
affections  implanted  in  them,  but  their  interests  are  so  inter- 
woven, that  even  the  cupidity  and  selfishness  of  individuals  are 
made  to  conduce  to  the  general  good.  What  may  be  called  the 
economical  laws  of  human  nature,  (the  principles  of  Political 
Economy,)  in  their  general  effects  upon  the  well-being  of  society, 
manifest  the  contrivance,  wisdom,  and  beneficence  of  the  Deity 
just  as  clearly,  as  do  the  marvellous  arrangements  of  the  mate- 
rial universe,  or  the  natural  means  provided  for  the  enforcement 
of  the  moral  law  and  the  punishment  of  crime.  The  lowest 
passions  of  mankind,  ostentation  and  ambition,  petty  rivalry,  the 
love  of  saving  and  the  love  of  gain,  while  they  bring  their  own 
penalty  upon  the  individual  who  indulges  them,  are  still  over- 
ruled for  good  in  their  operation  upon  the  interests  of  society ; 
—  nay,  they  are  made  the  most  efficient  means  of  guarding  it 
from  harm  and  advancing  its  welfare.  In  the  vast  round  of 
employments  in  civilized  society,  there  is  hardly  one  in  which  a 
person  can  profitably  exert  himself,  without  at  the  same  time 
profiting  the  community  in  which  he  lives,  and  lending  aid  to 
thousands  of  human  beings  whom  he  never  saw.  TVe  are  aU 
servants  of  one  another  without  wishing  it,  and  even  without 
knowing  it ;  we  are  all  cooperating  with  each  other  as  busily 
and  effectively  as  the  bees  in  a  hive,  and  most  of  us  with  as 


364  THE   GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 

little  perception  as  the  bees  have,  that  each  individual  effort  is 
essential  to  the  common  defence  and  general  prosperity.  "This 
dependence  and  combination,"  says  McCulloch,  "  is  not  found 
only  or  principally  in  the  mechanical  employments  ;  it  extends 
to  the  labors  of  the  head  as  well  as  those  of  the  hands,  and  per- 
vades and  binds  together  all  classes  and  degrees  of  society." 

"  The  great  Author  of  nature,"  says  Barrow,  (second  sermon 
on  Industry,)  "  hath  so  distributed  the  ranks  and  offices  of  men, 
in  order  to  mutual  benefit  and  comfort,  that  one  man  should 
plough,  another  thrash,  another  grind,  another  labor  at  the  forge, 
another  knit  or  weave,  another  sail,  another  trade,  another  su- 
pervise all  these,  laboring  to  keep  them  all  in  order  and  peace ; 
that  one  should  work  with  his  hands  and  feet,  another  with  his 
head  and  tongue ;  all  conspiring  to  one  common  end,  the  wel- 
fare of  the  whole,  and  the  supply  of  what  is  useful  to  each  par- 
ticular member ;  every  man  so  reciprocally  obliging  and  being 
obliged,  the  prince  being  obliged  to  the  husbandman  for  his 
bread,  to  the  weaver  for  his  clothes,  to  the  mason  for  his  palace, 
to  the  smith  for  his  sword ;  those  being  all  obliged  to  him  for 
his  vigilant  care  in  protecting  them,  for  their  security  in  pursu- 
ing the  work,  and  enjoying  the  fruit  of  their  industry.*  " 


*  For  a  more  specific  ilhistration  of  this  truth,  I  borrow  a  passage  from 
Adam  Smith, 

"  The  interests  of  the  inhmd  dealer  [in  corn,]  and  that  of  the  great  body 
of  the  people,  how  opposite  soever  they  may  at  first  sight  appear,  are, 
even  in  years  of  the  greatest  scarcity,  exactly  the  same.  It  is  his  interest 
to  raise  the  price  of  his  corn  as  high  as  the  real  scarcity  of  the  season  re- 
quires, and  it  can  never  be  his  interest  to  raise  it  higher.  By  raising  the 
price,  he  discourages  the  consumption,  and  puts  everybody,  more  or  less, 
but  particularly  the  inferior  ranks  of  people,  upon  thrift  and  good  man- 
agement. If,  by  raising  it  too  high,  he  discourages  the  consumption  so 
much  that  the  supply  of  the  season  is  likely  to  go  beyond  the  consumption 
of  the  season,  and  to  last  for  some  time  after  the  next  crop  begins  to  come 
in,  he  runs  the  hazard,  not  only  of  losing  a  considerable  part  of  his  corn  by 
natural  causes,  but  of  being  obliged  to  sell  what  remains  of  it  for  much 
less  than  what  he  might  have  had  for  it  several  months  before.  If,  by  not 
raising  the  price  high  enough,  he  discourages  the  consumption  so  little, 
that  the  supply  of  the  season  is  Hkely  to  fall  short  of  the  consumption  of 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  365 

Broad  conclusions  from  this  argument.  —  It  is  unnecessary 
to  carry  these  illustrations  any  further,  though  any  exposition 
of  this  broad  theme,  the  benevolence  of  God  as  displayed  in 
the  material  and  moral  universe,  must  necessarily  seem  imper- 
fect. It  is  important  to  mark  the  breadth  of  the  conclusion  at 
which  we  have  now  arrived.  It  is  proved,  not  only  that  good 
predominates  to  a  vast  extent,  but  that,  secondary  only  to  the 
support  and  enforcement  of  the  law  of  rightij  the  production  of 
happiness  is  the  chief  f)urpose  in  the  creation  and  government 
of  the  world.  Strike  out  the  pains  which  were  intended  to  vin- 
dicate the  law  of  primary  obligation,  and  to  show  that  virtue  was 
of  more  importance  than  mere  enjoyment,  and  happiness  is  seen 
to  be  the  normal  condition  of  mankind,  —  happiness  which  was 
contrived,  and  which  is  the  sole  object  of  the  contrivance,  — 
happiness  which  fills  up  so  large  a  portion  of  the  hours  of  ex- 
istence, that  hardship  and  suffering  are  restricted  in  compari- 
son to  minutes.  EvU  exists,  undoubtedly ;  but  it  is  the  excep- 
tion, and  not  the  rule.  It  is  never  designed  for  its  own  sake ; 
it  is  nowhere  the  ultimate  object  of  the  contrivance. 

No  difficulty  appears  till  the  idea  of  infinity  is  brought  in.  — 
There  is,  then,  sufficient,  even  abundant,  proof  of  the  benevo- 
lence of  the  Creator.     And  this  benevolence  is  not  scanty  or 


the  season,  he  not  only  loses  a  part  of  the  profit  which  he  might  otherwise 
have  made,  but  be  exposes  the  people  to  suffer  before  the  end  of  the  sea- 
son, instead  of  the  hardships  of  a  dearth,  the  dreadful  horrors  of  a  fiimine. 
It  is  the  interest  of  4he  people  that  their  daily,  weekly,  and  monthly  con- 
sumption should  be  proportioned  as  exactly  as  possible  to  the  supply  of 
the  season.  The  interest  of  the  inland  corn  dealer  is  the  same.  By  sup- 
plying them,  as  nearly  as  he  can  judge,  in  this  proportion,  he  is  likely  to 
sell  all  his  com  for  the  highest  price,  and  with  the  greatest  profit ;  and  his 
knowledge  of  the  state  of  the  crop,  and  of  his  daily,  weekly,  and  monthly 
sales,  enables  him  to  judge,  with  more  or  less  accuracy,  how  far  they  really 
are  supplied  in  this  manner.  Without  intending  the  interest  of  the  people, 
he  is  necessarily  led,  by  a  regard  to  his  own  interest,  to  treat  them,  even 
in  years  of  scarcity,  pretty  much  in  the  same  manner  as  the  prudent  mas- 
ter of  a  vessel  is  sometimes  obliged  to  treat  his  crew.  When  he  foresees 
that  provisions  are  likely  to  run  short,  he  puts  them  upon  short  allowance.'* 
—  Smith's  Wealth  of  Nations,  p.  233. 

31* 


3G6  THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 

parsimonious  in  its  clmnicUT ;  its  arrangements  are  vast,  impos- 
ing, commensurate  with  the  scale  on  which  the  universe  is 
made.  The  whole  difficulty  which  is  presented  to  us,  in  the 
problem  respecting  the  origin  and  continuance  of  evil,  reljites  to 
the  infinitij  of  Divine  benevolence.  That  there  is  some  evil  in 
the  world,  is  an  apparent  indication  that  the  deity  is  not  i7ifi- 
nitely  benevolent ;  but  it  is  no  indication  whatever  that  he  is 
not  benevolent  at  all.  It  affords  no  presumption  even  against 
the  doctrine  that  he  is  largely  benevolent,  —  bountiful  and  gra- 
cious to  man,  far  beyond  the  measure  of  his  absolute  wants  or 
rijrhtful  claims.  This  conclusion,  therefore,  —  that  God  wishes 
the  happiness,  not  the  misery,  of  his  creatures,  and  has  made 
rich  provision  to  this  end,  —  remains  to  us  unshaken,  whatever 
may  be  our  success  in  the  subsequent  part  of  the  inquiry. 

I  insist  strongly  upon  this  point,  because  the  nature  of  the 
difficulty  occasioned  by  the  presence  of  any  evil  in  the  world 
has  been  greatly  misunderstood.  Nearly  all  writers  upon  the 
subject  have  argued  the  matter,  as  if  the  existence  of  sin  and 
suffiBring  in  any  degree,  however  small,  or  however  overbal- 
anced by  virtue  and  happiness,  afforded  a  presumption  that  the 
Deity  was  not  benevolent  at  all,  —  nay,  that  he  was  malevolent, 
that  he  intended  the  misery  of  his  creatures.  But  not  so.  It 
is  one  thing  to  prove  that  God  is  wise,  powerful,  and  good  ;  and 
another  and  quite  a  different  thing,  to  prove  that  he  is  infinitely 
wise,  infinitely  powerful,  and  infinitely  good.  The  difference 
between  these  two  lines  of  proof  has  sometimes  (and  very  prop- 
erly) been  made  a  topic  for  discussion  by  itself;  the  infinity  of 
the  Divine  attributes  is  to  be  made  out  by  reasoning  somewhat 
different  from  that  which  establishes  the  reality  of  the  attributes 
themselves.  Infinity  is  a  metaphysical  idea ;  our  notion  of  it 
is  confessedly  inadequate.  We  have  but  a  negative  idea  of  it ; 
it  implies  that  certain  qualities  exist  in  an  unknown  perfection. 
To  prove  that  the  attributes  are  infinite,  then,  may  be  desirable 
for  philosophical  purposes,  for  the  completeness  of  theory,  and 
for  rounding  out  with  entireness  a  system  of  theology ;  but  it  is 
not  essential  either  for  religious  faith  or  practice.  For  these 
latter  purposes,  it  is  enough  to  show  that  the  qualities  exist 


THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD.  367 

unlimited  by  the  attributes  of  any  other  known  being  or  thinf, 
and  in  a  degree  which  challenges  our  wonder  and  adoration. 
This  has  been  already  done,  and  religious  faith,  properly  so 
called,  is  sufficiently  vindicated.  It  is  proved  that  God  exists, 
and  that  he  governs  the  world  in  righteousness  and  with  mercy, 
at  once  upholding  the  law  which  he  has  revealed  through  the 
conscience,  and  showing  by  manifold  provisions  his  care  for  the 
happiness  of  his  creatures. 

Our  idea  of  injinity  necessarily  inadequate,  —  It  is  observ- 
able, in  the  next  place,  that  there  are  difficulties  in  the  very 
conception  of  infinite  goodness  united  with  infinite  power,  which 
ought  to  warn  us  that  the  imperfection,  after  all,  is  more  apt  to 
be  in  our  limited  modes  of  thought,  than  in-  the  constituted 
nature  of  things.  I  borrow  on  this  point  the  very  clear  and 
precise  statement  of  Abraham  Tucker. 

"  God,"  he  observes,  "  is  completely  happy  in  himself,  nor  can 
his  happiness  receive  increase  or  diminution  from  any  thing 
befalling  his  creatures ;  wherefore  his  goodness  is  pure,  disin- 
terested bounty,  without  any  return  of  joy  or  satisfaction  to 
himself.  Therefore  it  is  no  wonder  we  have  imperfect  notions 
of  a  quality  whereof  we  have  no  experience  in  our  own  nature ; 
for  we  know  of  no  other  love  than  inclination,  which  prompts  us 
to  gratify  it  in  the  same  manner  as  our  other  inclinations.  In 
the  next  place,  let  us  examine  our  idea  of  infinite  goodness 
taken  in  the  abstract,  before  we  inquire  whether  God  be  good 
or  no,  —  and  we  shall  find  it  incompatible  with  that  of  infinite 
power ;  for  infinite  goodness,  according  to  our  apprehension,  re- 
quires that  it  should  exhaust  omnipotence,  that  it  should  give 
capacities  of  enjoyment,  and  confer  blessings,  until  there  were  no 
more  to  be  conferred;  Ifut  our  idea  of  omnipotence  requires 
that  it  should  be  inexhaustible,  that  nothing  should  limit  its 
operations  so  that  it  could  do  no  more  than  it  has  done.  There- 
fore it  is  much  easier  to  conceive  of  an  imperfect  creature  com- 
pletely good,  than  of  a  perfect  being ;  for  if  he  pursues  invari- 
ably all  opportunities  of  doing  good  to  the  utmost  of  his  power 
and  knowledge,  he  deserves  that  character ;  and  if  there  are  any 
injuries  sustained  which  he  cannot  redress,  any  distress  unre- 


36S  THE    GOODNESS    OF    GOD. 

lieved  which  he  knows  not  of,  his  weakness  and  ignorance  are  a 
full  excuse  for  his  omission.  But  where  there  is  almighty- 
power,  unlimited  knowledge,  and  perfect  wisdom,  we  can  neither 
conceive  that  infinite  goodness  should  extend  to  the  utmost 
bounds  of  that  which  has  no  bounds,  nor  yet  that  it  should  stop 
until  it  can  proceed  no  further.  Since,  then,  we  find  our  under- 
standing incapable  of  comprehending  infinite  goodness  joined 
ydih  infinite  power,  we  need  not  be  surprised  at  finding  our 
thoughts  perplexed  concerning  them ;  for  no  other  can  be  ex- 
pected in  matters  above  our  reach ;  and  we  may  presume  the 
obscurity  rises  from  something  wrong  in  our  ideas,  not  from 
any  inconsistencies  in  the  subjects  themselves."  In  short,  here 
as  elsewhere,  whenever  we  apply  a  purely  metaphysical  idea  to 
matters-of-fact,  we  end  in  a  contradiction  or  an  absurdity. 

The  proof  of  the  Divine  benevolence  is  complete  in  itself  — 
You  vnW  not  understand  me,  by  these  remarks,  as  holding  forth 
the  opinion,  that  the  problem  respecting  the  origin  of  evil  is 
insoluble,  or  as  evading  the  difiiculty  of  solving  it.  On  the 
contrary,  I  believe,  and  I  shall  attempt  to  show,  that  all  events 
are  ordered  for  the  best,  and  that  the  supposed  evils  which  we 
suffer  are  parts  of  a  great  system  conducted  by  almighty  power_, 
under  the  direction  of  unlimited  wisdom  and  goodness.  I  adopt 
the  opinion,  maintained  in  all  ages  by  the  best  and  wisest  philoso- 
phers, that  the  creation  of  beings  endowed  with  freewill,  and 
consequently  liable  to  moral  delinquency,  and  the  government 
of  the  world  by  general  laws,  from  which  occasional  supposed 
evils  must  result,  furnish  no  solid  objection  to  the  perfection  of 
the  universe.  This,  I  admit,  is  a  system  of  optimism ;  but  it  is 
not  the  optimism  of  Leibnitz,  grounded  upon  a  denial  of  man's 
free  agency,  and  as  such  justly  ridiculed  by  Voltaire.  And  the 
general  doctrine  of  the  benevolence  of  God,  is  in  nowise  ac- 
countable for,  or  dependent  upon,  the  sufficiency  of  the  argument 
in  defence  of  this  metaphysical  system.  That  doctrine  rests 
upon  its  own  proofs,  which  are  abundant,  undisputed,  and  irre- 
fragable. This  question  respecting  the  presence  of  any  evil  in 
the  world,  is  a  collateral  affair,  which  must  be  considered,  in- 
deed, before  we  can  complete  a  scheme  of  theology,  and  about 


THE    ORIG-IN    OF    EVIL.  369 

which  theologians  and  metaphysicians  may  differ.  But  the  re- 
ligious man  has  no  concern  with  it,  and  his  faith,  whether  derived 
from  the  teachings  of  nature,  or  from  express  revelation,  is  not 
burdened  with  its  doubts  and  intricacies.  It  is  enough  for  him, 
that  he  can  trace  everywhere  the  footprints  of  a  wise,  just,  and 
benevolent  Ruler  of  the  universe. 


CHAPTER     VII. 


THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL. 


Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  The  argument  in  the  last 
chapter  for  the  benevolence  of  God,  was  not  founded  upon 
metaphysical  reasoning,  or  upon  any  consideration  a  priori  of 
the  Divine  nature,  but  upon  observation  and  the  results  of  ex- 
perience. It  is  because  human  life,  on  the  whole,  is  a  happy 
one,  because  its  pleasures  far  exceed  its  pains,  and  because 
these  pleasures  were  evidently  designed,  while  the  pains  are 
only  incidental  or  secondary  to  some  great  object,  that  we  are 
enabled  to  pronounce  with  confidence,  that  the  Deity  wishes  the 
happiness  of  his  creatures.  The  sufferings  which  are  the  im- 
mediate consequence  and  punishment  of  vice,  it  was  remarked, 
are  properly  left  out  of  the  account,  since  these  evince  the 
goodness  of  God  no  less  than  the  happiness  resulting  from  vir- 
tue, the  object  in  both  cases  being  to  advance  man's  highest 
interests  by  the  improvement  of  his  moral  character  ;  just  so  the 
affectionate  parent  rewards  the  obedience  and  punishes  the 
faults  of  his  child,  love  equally  constraining  him  to  adopt  either 
course.  Now,  these  sufferings  constitute  so  large  a  portion  of 
the  misery  that  is  in  the  world,  that,  when  they  are  deducted, 
the,  balance  inclines  altogether  on  the  side  of  happiness.  Our 
enjoyments,  also,  proceed  from  steady  and  permanent  causes  j 


370  THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL. 

the  performance  of  all  the  ordinary  functions  of  life,  when  the 
body  is  in  its  normal  state,  being  a  source  of  pleasure.  Sick- 
ness is  an  accident  and  an  exception ;  health  is  the  intended  and 
usual  condition. 

The  pleasures  of  taste  arise  from  an  adaptation  of  external 
nature  to  the  mind  of  man,  which  must  have  had  for  its  sole 
purpose  the  increase  of  our  happiness ;  and  these  pleasures  are 
so  various,  recur  so  frequently,  and  occupy  so  many  hours  of 
our  existence,  as  to  give  a  smiling  aspect  to  the  whole.  Happi- 
ness, it  was  also  observed,  is  accommodated  to  all  beings  and 
conditions ;  there  is  no  absolute  standard  of  it,  which  would 
necessarily  limit  its  distribution.  The  pleasures  of  the  child, 
the  savage,  and  the  brute,  are  as  real  and  hearty,  as  complete  in 
their  way,  as  those  of  the  mature  and  cultivated  mind.  All 
have  the  means  of  enjoyment  provided  for  them,  suited  to  their 
peculiar  sphere,  adapted  to  their  organizations  and  their  tastes. 
Lastly,  the  endowment  of  the  mind  with  the  benevolent  affec- 
tions, is  a  most  effectual  security  for  our  happiness,  by  making 
us  all  the  guardians  of  the  happiness  of  each  other.  It  is  not 
only  the  duty,  but  one  of  the  primitive  impulses,  of  man,  acting 
spontaneously,  and  for  the  time  irrationally,  to  aid,  protect,  and 
sympathize  with  his  neighbor.  These  affections  profit  not  only 
the  objects  of  them,  but  him  who  cherishes  them ;  the  luxury 
of  their  indulgence  being  so  great,  that  when  real  occasions  to 
call  them  forth  are  wanting,  we  seek  fictitious  ones,  and  spend 
them  upon  imaginary  beings. 

The  occasional  presence  of  evil  does  not  disprove  the  goodness 
of  God.  —  These  facts,  I  observed,  show  a  vast  predominance 
of  happiness  in  our  condition,  and  so,  notwithstanding  the  oc- 
casional presence  of  evil,  amply  vindicate  the  benevolence  of 
the  Creator.  What  remains  is  a  point  of  curiosity  and  theory, 
rather  than  of  substantive  importance,  for  the  religious  inquirer 
Insist  as  we  may  upon  the  existence  of  sin  and  suffering  in  the 
world,  these,  in  the  amount  in  which  they  are  visible  to  us,  do 
not  disprove,  do  not  even  cast  a  doubt  upon,  the  goodness  of 
God ;  they  affect  only  the  doctrine  of  the  infinity  of  his  benev- 
olence, a  subject  with  which  we,  his  finite  creatures,  with  our 


THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL.  371 

limited  intelligence,  have  little  or  no  concern.  It  is  probable 
it  is  even  certain,  that  the  whole  difficulty  consists,  not  in  the 
nature  of  the  facts  themselves,  but  in  the  imperfect  comprehen- 
sion of  our  minds,  which  cannot  unite  the  conceptions  of  in- 
finite power  and  infinite  goodness  without  stumbling  upon  a 
contradiction  and  an  absurdity.  After  this  explanation,  we 
approach  the  deep  and  dark  problem  of  the  origin  of  evil  with- 
out anxiety. 

Proper  statement  of  tlie  question.  —  The  question  in  its  sim- 
plest form  is,  How  can  there  be  any  evil  in  the  world,  if  it  was 
created  and  is  governed  by  an  all-powerful  and  all-gracious 
God  ?  The  difficulty  disappears,  and  the  problem  is  solved,  if 
we  can  prove  that  the  existence  of  any  amount,  however  small, 
of  sin  and  suffering,  is  compatible  with  a  behef  in  the  omnipo- 
tence and  infinite  benevolence  of  the  Deity ;  for,  in  the  first 
place,  it  was  shown  in  the  last  chapter,  that  the  amount  is  ac- 
tually small,  when  compared  with  the  happiness  and  virtue  for 
which  provision  is  made,  and  which  are  really  experienced  or 
exercised ;  and,  secondly,  if  any  evil,  however  slight,  can  be 
satisfactorily  accounted  for,  without  bringing  the  infinite  power 
and  goodness  of  God  into  doubt,  the  question  respecting  the  mag- 
nitude of  this  necessary  evil  can  be  determined  by  infinite  wisdom 
alone.  It  is  not  competent  for  us  to  settle  this  question  ;  nor  is 
it  desirable,  for  the  answer  to  it  does  not  at  all  affect  our  belief 
in  the  moral  attributes  of  the  Supreme  Being,  and  is  obviously 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  human  faculties.  We  might  as  well 
assume  to  determine  how  many  stars  there  ought  to  be  in  the 
sky,  as  to  say  how  much  or  how  little  of  any  quality  or  thing 
ought  to  be  permitted  under  God's  government,  when  we  have 
once  clearly  seen  that  its  presence  in  some  degree  is  essential. 
Only  an  Alphonso  of  Castile  could  be  guilty  of  such  folly.  He 
alone  who  knows  the  whole,  and  governs  the  whole,  of  the  uni- 
verse of  which  we  form  but  an  infinitesimal  part,  —  our  time  in 
it  being  but  a  moment,  and  our  space  a  dot,  —  can  tell  how 
much  is  essential,  when  we  know  that  some  is  essential.  Our 
ideas  of  quantity  and  magnitude  are  wholly  relative ;  however 
great  the  sum  may  appear  to  us,  no  one  can  affirm,  that,  in^he 


872  Tin:  o Kir. IX  of  evil. 

eye  of  Infinite  Wisdom,  it  i.s  not  a  minimum.  Nay,  after  the 
proofs  already  advanced  of  the  Divine  benevolence,  the  pre- 
sumption is  inevitable,  that  it  is  a  minimum. 

Exaggerated  statements  of  the  amount  of  evil  in  the  world.  — 
I  place  stress  upon  this  point,  because,  both  by  the  friends  and 
the  opponents  of  religion,  the  problem  respecting  the  origin  of 
evil  has  been  unnecessarily  darkened  and  rendered  formidable 
by  declamatory  and  exaggerated  statements  of  the  amount  of 
sin  and  woe  which  sadden  the  annals  of  mankind.  Thus,  Bayle, 
the  most  acute  and  sarcastic  of  modern  infidels,  after  quoting 
Cicero's  pathetic  account  of  his  voyage  home  from  Asia,  at  one 
point  in  which  he  beheld  around  him  the  deserted  ruins  of  so 
many  cities,  once  renowned  for  their  power  and  splendor,  goes 
on  to  say,  —  "  History  is,  properly  speaking,  only  a  record  of 

the  crimes  and  the  misfortunes  of  the  human  race If 

man  is  the  creation  of  a  single  being,  who  is  supremely  good, 
supremely  holy,  and  supremely  powerful,  how  can  he  be  ex- 
posed to  disease,  to  cold,  to  heat,  to  hunger,  to  thirst,  to  pain,  to 
sorrow?  How  can  he  have  so  many  wicked  inclinations? 
How  can  he  commit  so  many  crimes  ?  Can  infinite  holiness 
create  a  wicked  being  ?  Can  infinite  goodness  create  an  un- 
happy being  ?  Will  not  sovereign  power,  joined  with  infinite 
benevolence,  overwhelm  its  creature  with  benefits,  and  remove 
far  from  him  all  that  can  offend  or  sadden  ?  " 

The  following  picture,  by  Abraham  Tucker,  though  well  in- 
tended, is  quite  as  exaggerated  and  unnecessary.  "  That  there 
are  innumerable  evils,"  he  says,  "  the  phenomena  of  nature  suf- 
ficiently assures  us :  storms  and  tempests,  earthquakes  and  in- 
undations, lay  fields  and  cities  desolate  with  all  their  produce 
and  inhabitants ;  blighting  winds  and  pestilential  vapors  wither 
up  and  destroy,  ravenous  beasts  devour,  villains  assassinate, 
thieves  break  through  and  steal,  tyrants  oppress,  diseases  tor- 
ment, cross  accidents  vex,  old  age  debilitates,  our  necessary  em- 
ployments fatigue,  our  wants  interfere,  our  very  pleasures  cloy, 
and  man  is  born  to  sorrow  as  the  sparks  fly  upward.  We  are 
necessitated  to  destroy  vermin  that  would  overrun  us,  to  slay 
©ur  fellow-creatures  for  our  sustenance,  to  weary  them  out  with 


THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL.  373 

toil  and  labor  for  our  uses,  to  press  one  another  into  wars  and 
sea-services  for  our  preservation.  Nay,  evil  is  so  interwoven 
into  our  nature,  that  the  business  of  mankind  would  stagnate 
without  it ;  most  of  our  cares  being  employed  in  delivering  our- 
selves from  troubles  we  lie  under,  or  warding  off  those  that 
threaten." 

The  fallacy  of  these  sweeping  statements  exposed.  —  It  is  hardly- 
necessary  to  say,  that  such  statements  as  these  are  one-sided 
and  exaggerated,  and  that  the  general  impression  which  they 
leave  on  the  mind  is  wholly  unfounded.  The  great  but  covert 
fallacy  in  this  general  impression,  is,  that  the  whole  human  race 
is  regarded  hut  as  one  individual,  whose  existence  extends 
through  all  ages  and  over  all  parts  of  the  earth,  so  that  his  sin- 
gle experience  comprises  all  the  woes  and  crimes  which  are  ac- 
tually distributed  among  countless  millions  of  beings.  Now  it 
is  the  veriest  truism  to  say,  that  happiness  or  misery  is  expe- 
rienced only  hy  individuals  ;  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  the 
suffeHng  of  the  race  in  general ;  that  any  one  man  would  be 
considered  as  marked  out  for  sorrow,  as  a  special  object  of  com- 
passion, who  should  be  afflicted  by  any  one  of  the  great  evils 
above  mentioned ;  that  it  is  impossible,  in  the  nature  of  thing-, 
for  any  one  to  suiFer  from  all  of  them ;  and  that  the  occurrence 
even  of  one  would  occupy  but  a  small  portion  of  the  experience 
of  an  individual,  all  the  rest  of  which  might  be  almost  unmin- 
gled  enjoyment.  How  many  of  those  who  read  this  page  have 
been  plagued  by  famines,  inundations,  earthquakes,  the  assas- 
sination of  friends,  robbery,  ravenous  beasts,  tyranny,  the  neces- 
sity of  slaying  a  fellow-creature  for  sustenance,  or  the  like  ? 
And  if,  which  is  very  improbable,  there  be  an  individual  who 
has  experienced  one  of  these  calamities,  hoiv  small  a  portion  of 
his  whole  existence  has  been  immediately  saddened  hy  the  event, 
and  how  many  compensating  hours  has  he  had  of  amusement, 
indifference,  or  positive  happiness  ?  How  idle  is  it,  then,  to 
make  out  a  catalogue  of  all  the  calamities  and  crimes  of  which 
there  is  any  mention  in  history,  and  to  speak  of  human  life  as 
vexed  by  them,  thus  conveying  the  impression,  though  it  is  not  q 
a  logical  inference,  that  it  is  the  life  of  an  individual  which  is 


374  TUE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL. 

thus  spoken  of !  For  when  happiness  or  misery  is  the  topi^  iif 
discussion,  if  it  be  not  an  individual  existence  that  is  referred  to, 
this  enumeration,  this  adding  of  one  woe  to  another,  and  one 
crime  to  another,  is  meaningless  and  impertinent.  To  take  a 
particular  instance,  —  it  was  a  misfortune  and  a  wrong  that 
Socrates  should  drink  the  hemlock.  But  how  many,  with  the 
same  virtues  and  the  same  genius,  have  sufiered  the  same  fate 
as  the  Grecian  sage  ?  and  how  great  or  t  how  long  was  this  suf- 
fering even  for  him,  when  compared  with  the  many  and  bright 
hours  of  instruction  and  happiness  which  constituted  the  re- 
mainder of  his  individual  experience  ?  If  we  were  wise,  we 
should  thank  God  that  Socrates  lived  and  taught  as  he  did, 
rather  than  grieve  or  murmur  because  he  died  a  felon's  death. 

The  real  problem  stated  as  a  dilemma.  —  Putting  aside,  then^, 
these  rhetorical  exaggerations  of  human  wretchedness,  we  come 
to  the  real  problem,  —  how  to  reconcile  the  presence  of  any 
pain  or  wrong,  however  slight,  with  the  infinite  power  and  good- 
ness of  the  Governor  of  all  things.  The  whole  difficulty  here 
is  well  stated  in  the  form  of  a  dilemma  by  Lactantius,  who  pro- 
fesses to  have  taken  it  directly  from  Epicurus,  into  whose  phi- 
losophy it  entered  as  a  proof  of  his  doctrine,  that  the  Deity  ex- 
isted indeed,  but  that  he  exercised  no  oversight  or  government 
of  the  affairs  of  this  world.  "  The  Deity,"  he  says,  "  is  either 
willing  to  take  away  all  evil,  but  is  not  able  to  do  so,  in  which 
case  he  is  not  omnipotent ;  or  he  is  able  to  remove  the  evil,  but 
is  not  willing,  in  which  case,  he  is  not  benevolent ;  or  he  is 
neither  wilUng  nor  able,  which  is  a  denial  of  the  Divine  perfec- 
tions ;  or  he  is  both  able  and  willing  to  do  away  with  the  evil, 
and  yet  it  exists/'  Now  it  is  obvious,  in  the  first  place,  that 
this  dilemma  is  made  to  cover  too  much  gi'ound ;  for  while  in- 
ahility  to  remove  the  evil  is  rightly  held  to  disprove  the  infinite 
power  of  God,  his  unwillingness  to  remove  it  is  held  to  prove, 
not  that  his  benevolence  is  imperfect^  which  would  be  a  just 
conclusion,  hut  that  he  is  not  benevolent  at  all,  or  rather  that  he 
is  malignant,  the  evil  being  intentional,  and  not  incidental. 
The  facts,  certainly,  support  no  such  conclusion.  We  may  sup- 
pose, if  we  will,  that  the  Deity  has  a  general  intention  to  pro- 


THE    ORIGIN    OF   EVIL.  375 

vide  for  the  happiness  of  his  creatures,  and,  in  the  long  run,  or 
as  a  general  rule,  has  taken  measures  to  secure  it ;  but  that  he 
is  not  watchful  in  every  case,  and  has  not  provided  for  all 
emergencies,  thinking  it  best,  perhaps,  that,  on  a  few  occasions, 
slight  evils  should  be  endured.  Such  is  often  the  conduct  of  an 
earthly  parent,  who  would  never  be  accused  of  a  want  of  love 
for  his  offspring.  But  this  is  not  general  enough  to  be  consid- 
ered as  a  satisfactory  solution  of  the  problem,  nor  do  I  propose 
it  as  such. 

Metaphysical  impossibilities  do  not  disprove  omnipotence.  — 
We  shall  gain  a  clearer  idea  of  the  true  purport  of  the  question, 
by  examining  more  closely  the  meaning  of  the  words  employed. 
Omnipotence  and  benevolence  are  apparently  very  simple  and 
very  comprehensive  terms,  though  few  are  more  vaguely  used. 
The  former  means  a  power  to  do  every  thing  ;  but  this  does  not 
include  the  ability  to  do  two  contradictory  things  at  the  same 
moment^  or  to  accomplish  any  metaphysical  impossibility.  Thus, 
the  Deity  cannot  cause  two  and  two  to  make  five,  nor  place 
two  hills  near  each  other  without  leaving  a  valley  between  them. 
The  impossibility  in  such  cases  does  not  argue  a  defect  of  poioer, 
but  an  absurdity  in  the  statement  of  the  case  to  which  the  power 
is  to  be  applied.  A  statement  which  involves  a  contradiction 
in  terms  does  not  express  a  limitation  of  ability,  because,  in  truth, 
it  expresses  nothing  at  all ;  the  affirmation  and  the  denial,  ut- 
tered in  the  same  breath,  cancel  each  other,  and  no  meaning 
remains.  All  metaphysical  impossibilities  can  be  reduced  to 
the  formula,  that  it  is  impossible  for  the  same  thing  to  he  and  not 
to  be  at  the  same  moment,  as  this  would  be  an  absurdity,  —  that 
is,  an  absurd  or  meaningless  statement.  Thus,  virtue  cannot 
exist  without  free  agency,  because  a  free  choice  between  good 
and  evil  is  involved  in  the  idea  of  virtue,  so  that  the  proposition 
means  no  more  than  this,  —  that  what  contains  freedom  cannot 
be  without  freedom.  Compulsion  is  a  denial  of  freedom ;  there- 
fore, the  phrase  compulsory  virtue  does  not  so  much  express  an 
impossibiUty,  as  an  absurdity ;  it  is  nonsense.  We  cannot 
choose  between  good  and  evil,  unless  good  and  evil  are  both 
placed  before  us,  —  that  is,  unless  we  know  what  these  words 


376  THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL. 

mean  ;  and  we  cannot  express  our  choice  in  action,  unless  we 
are  able  to  act,  —  that  is,  unless  we  have  thQ  power  of  doing  either 
good  or  evil.  In  the  dilemma  quoted  from  Epicurus,  a  contra- 
diction in  terms  is  held  to  prove  a  defect  of  power,  or  to  dis- 
prove Omnipotence ;  the  dilemma,  therefore,  is  a  mere  logical 
puzzle,  like  the  celebrated  one  of  Achilles  and  the  tortoise. 
The  only  difficulty  is,  how  to  lay  bare  the  fallacy,  or  expose  the 
contradiction,  since  it  is  very  skilfully  covered  up  by  the  lan- 
guage employed. 

'     Outward  acts  do  not  disprove   he?ievolent   intentions.  —  The 

\       imeaning  of  benevolence  appears  simple  enough ;  but  it  is  often 

jdifficult  to  tell  whether  a  certain  act  was  or  was  not  prompted 

Iby  kind  intentions.     Strictly  speaking,  of  course,  benevolence  is 

'^\a  quality   of  mind,  —  that   is,    of  will    (bene  voh)    or  inten- 

Ition,  —  7iot  of  outward  conduct.  An  action  is  said  to  be  benev- 
olent only  by  a  metaphor ;  it  is  so  called,  because  we  infer  from 
fit,  with  great  positiveness,  that  the  agent  must  have  had  benev- 
jolent  intentions.  We  think  that  the  motives  are  indicated  by 
{the  act ;  but  we  may  be  mistaken.  I  He  who  gives  food  to  the 
hungry  poor  would  be  esteemed  benevolent ;  but  he  may  do  it 
with  a  view  to  poison  them.  To  strike  for  the  avowed  purpose 
of  causing  pain,  usually  argues  ill-will  or  a  malignant  design  ; 
but  the  blow  may  come  from  the  kindest  heart  in  the  world,  for 
the  express  purpose  of  benefiting  him  who  receives  it.  In  the 
present  argument,  Epicurus  assumes  that  the  presence  of  evil, 
that  is,  the  outward  fact,  is  enough  to  prove  a  want  of  benevo' 
lence,  or  even  a  malignant  design,  on  the  part  of  him  who  might 
have  prevented  it.  But  if,  by  evil,  is  here  meant  mere  pain  or 
suffering,  whether  proceeding  from  bodily  or  mental  causes,  we 
may  boldly  deny  the  inference.  If  pleasure  or  mere  enjoyment 
is  not  the  greatest  good,  if  sometimes  it  is  even  inconsistent  with 
the  possession  of  a  higher  blessing,  then  a  denial  of  it  may  be 
a  proof  of  goodness  instead  of  malice.  The  problem  respecting 
the  existence  of  evil  is  really  solved  by  the  single  proposition, 
Q  thatfrnr^we,  7iot  happiness,  is  man's  highest  interestTl  Not  only 
merenarm  or  suffering,  but  the  liberty  to  do  wrong,  is  essential 
for  the  existence  of  virtue. 


THE    ORIGIX    OF    EVIL.  377 

The  presence  of  evil  does  not  impeach  the  perfections  of  God. 
—  I  cannot  admit,  then,  on  general  grounds,  that  the  presence 
either  of  moral  or  physical  evil  in  the  world  throws  any  doubt 
whatever  upon  the  perfections  of  the  Deity,  or  offers  any  argu- 
ment ao-ainst  the  doctrine  of  an  ever-watchful  and  ever-o;racious 
Providence.  It  is  demonstrable,  that  there  could  be  no  such 
thing  as  holiness,  if  sin  were  not  possible  ;  that  happiness  is  not 
man's  greatest  good ;  and  that  occasional  privation  of  it,  or  posi- 
tive suffering,  may  be  essential  for  our  education  in  virtue.  We 
cannot  always  trace  the  immediate  connection  between  the  evil 
that  we  now  endure,  or  which  we  compassionate  in  others,  and 
the  moral  purpose  that  it  is  designed  to  further,  or  the  benevo- 
lent intention  of  which  it  is  the  index.  But  we  can  discern  all 
the  great  features  of  the  scheme,  and  see  that  what  is  hard  to 
bear,  or  painful  to  look  upon,  in  a  particular  case,  may  be  a  nec- 
essary part  of  a  system  of  government  contrived  by  infinite  wis- 
dom, and  executed  with  almighty  power  and  perfect  love.  But 
as  it  is  not  the  general  argument,  in  the  somewhat  abstruse  and 
technical  form  that  I  have  here  given  to  it,  which  usually  per- 
plexes our  ideas  of  Divine  Providence,  but  rather  the  hardship 
and  the  wrong  in  particular  cases,  which,  we  are  prone  to  think, 
might  have  been  prevented  by  the  goodness  of  God,  without 
altering,  in  any  material  respect,  the  broad  features  of  his  ad- 
ministration of  human  affairs,  it  may  be  worth  while  to  develop 
and  apply  these  principles  with  some  minuteness. 

Progress,  not  mere  attainment,  is  the  law  of  our  being.  —  All 
that  we  know  of  the  human  mind  and  of  the  history  of  this 
world's  affairs,  with  the  intimations  that  these  respectively  af- 
ford of  the  designs  of  Providence,  leads  us  to  conclude,  that 
moral  discipline,  or  the  formation  of  character  hy  our  own 
efforts,  aided,  indeed,  but  not  determined,  by  power  from  on 
high,  is  the  great  end  of  our  being  here  below.  J  Not  mere  at- 
tainment, but  progress,  is  the  law  of  our  finite  condition, — 
progress  desired,  planned,  and  accomplished  by  ourselves,  as- 
sisted by  means  that  are  placed  within  our  reach,  though  we 
are  free  to  use  them  or  not.  Trial  and  effort,  mistakes  com- 
mitted and  rectified  by  increased  effort,  temptations  to  be  met 

32* 


378  THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL. 

and  vanquished,  and  difficulties  to  be  overborne,  are  essential 
parts  of  such  a  scheme.  Our  progress  is  to  be  measured,  or,  in 
other  words,  our  merit  is  to  he  determined,  hy  the  quantity  of 
ground  that  we  have  passed  over,  not  by  th«  absolute  distance  of 
the  point  that  we  have  reached  from  the  termini  of  the  course. 
Therefore,  all  start  fair  in  the  race,  though  their  points  of  de- 
parture may  be  far  apart.  Mere  happiness,  however  elevated 
and  unalloyed,  is  not  the  grand  object ;  for  happiness  is  a  state 
or  Jixed  point,  implying  neither  movement  nor  effort;  the  desire 
of  happiness  is  implanted  in  us  only  as  a  principle  of  activity, 
to  stimulate,  never  to  be  fully  satisfied.  Virtue,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  not  a  state,  hut  an  action ;  it  is  not  being,  hut  doing. 
All  advancement  made  in  it  conveys  increased  power  of  prog- 
ress, the  motive  constantly  elevating  itself  and  becoming  purer, 
obstacles  vanishing,  and  temptations  losing  their  force,  as  we 
go  on.  Mere  enjoyment,  on  the  other  hand,  satiates  and  cloys ; 
a  fresh  struggle  with  difficulties  is  soon  required,  or  the  cup 
loses  all  its  sweetness.  Repose  is  pleasant,  but  continued  idle- 
ness is  intolerable. 

Difference  in  this  respect  hetween  instinct  -and  reason. — 
There  cannot  be  a  better  illustration  and  proof  of  the  correct- 
ness of  this  view  of  life  than  is  afforded  by  the  contrast,  which  I 
have  already  placed  before  you,  between  instinct  and  reason. 
The  safety  and  comfort  of  the  lower  animals  are  provided  for, 
and  all  the  ends  of  their  being  are  obtained,  under  an  unerring 
guide  acting  above  the  sphere  of  their  consciousness.  They 
reverse  the  law  of  human  condition  ;  enjoyment,  not  progress,  is 
their  highest  good.  Results,  which,  if  brought  about  by  man, 
would  imply  great  sagacity  and  inventive  power,  would  tax  the 
loftiest  intellect  and  the  most  profound  study,  are  accomplished 
by  them  without  effort,  without  education,  and  without  liability 
to  error.  Their  faculties,  if  we  may  call  them  theirs,  are  not 
susceptible  of  any  discipline  or  improvement  whatever ;  at  the 
dawn  of  their  existence,  they  begin  their  allotted  tasks,  and 
finish  them  as  perfectly  as  at  its  close.  Having  no  foresight, 
they  have  no  foretaste  of  evil.  With  little,  if  any,  sensibility 
to  suffering,  their  enjoyment,  such  as  it  is,  appears  always  com- 


THE    ORIGIN    OF   EVIL.  379 

plete.  Death  which  cannot  be  foreseen  has  no  terrors ;  for 
them,  it  is  simply  ceasing  to  live,  and  is  therefore  no  more  an 
evil,  than  their  non-existence  was  during  all  time  anterior  to 
their  birth- 
Contrast  their  situation  with  man's,  who  is  born  helpless, 
ignorant,  and  unpix)tected,  save  bj  the  affection  of  his  own 
kind-  He  is  left  to  himself;  his  will  is  free,  and  his  reason 
must  be  developed  by  its  own  efforts,  tlirough  constant  trials 
and  mistakes,  and  frequent  pain.  With  all  his  boasted  learning 
and  ingenuity,  so  slowly  and  laboriously  acquired,  he  cannot 
build  so  perfect  a  cell,  he  cannot  form  so  j)erfect  a  society,  as 
the  bee ;  because  the  construction  of  a  house  or  a  society,  how- 
ever faultless,  is  not  the  object  of  his  being.  The  purpose  for 
which  he  was  created  is,  that  lie  may  Jit  himself  for  these  and 
greater  tasks;  the  education  thus  self-acquired  being  the  great 
end  in  view,  and  not  the  mere  accomplislmient  of  the  task, 
which  is  comparatively  of  little  moment.  We  are  constantly 
mistaking  means  for  ends,  the  importance  of  the  supposed  ends 
being  exaggerated  in  our  view,  in  order  tliat  we  may  be  induced 
to  use  the  supposed  means  ;  in  this  use  or  application,  in  this 
effort  and  the  consequent  improvement,  lies  the  real  end.  Most 
of  the  ends  which  men  pursue,  are  pointed  out  to  them  by  the 
passions  and  the  appetites,  —  that  is,  by  the  lower  part  of  their 
nature ;  the  strain  of  the  faculties  in  this  pursuit  is  counted  as 
a  necessity  and  a  hardship,  but  is  submitted  to  as  the  condition 
of  success-  Reason  and  conscience,  if  properly  developed,  are 
continually  admonishing  us,  it  is  true,  that  we  mistake  in  this 
matter ;  that  the  end  first  in  view  is  not  the  real  end,  or  of  sub- 
stantive importance  ;  that  the  formation  of  character,  the  devel- 
opment of  intellectual  and  moral  power  by  our  own  efforts,  is 
the  true  object ;  —  but  their  voice  can  scarcely  be  heard  amid 
the  din  of  the  passions- 

The  increase  of  happiness  is  not  the  greatest  good.  —  I  do  but 
take  the  most  general  instance  under  tliese  remarks,  when  I  say, 
that  the  love  of  happiness  itself  is  but  one  of  these  lower  desires, 
and  as  such,  is  rightfully  restrained  by  the  conscience,  which 
declares  to  us  with  an  authority  that  we  cannot  but  recognize, 


380  TUE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL. 

though  our  actions  are  too  seldom  directed  by  it,  that  mere  en- 
joyment is  not  the  greatest  good.  How,  then,  is  it  an  impeach- 
ment of  the  goodness  of  the  Creator,  that  the  happiness  of  man, 
thougli  carefully  provided  for  within  certain  limits,  is  still  made 
secondaiy  to  his  moral  improvement?  As  the  idea  of  virtue 
includes  trial,  temptation,  suffering,  and  the  liability  to  sin,  it  is 
a  contradiction  in  terms,  to  ask  that  progress  in  virtue  should  he 
made  compatiUe  with  the  non-existence  of  evil.  All  improve- 
ment presupposes  a  lower  state  as  a  j)oint  of  departure;  all 
merit  presupposes  that  the  improvement  is  voluntary,  and  is  due 
to  one's  own  exertions. 

It  may  be  disputed,  perhaps,  that  the  happiness  of  the  brute 
creation  is  complete ;  but  Ave  have  a  right  to  imagine  that  it  is 
so,  and  then  to  compare  our  own  condition  with  theirs,  suppos- 
ing all  drawbacks  to  their  enjoyment  to  be  taken  away.  Is 
there  a  human  being,  whatever  may  have  been  his  individual 
experience,  or  however  large  may  be  his  estimate  of  the  sin  and 
misery  which  darken  the  lot  of  mankind,  who  Avill  not  exclaim, 
"  God  be  thanked  that  he  has  not  made  me  a  happy  brute,  or  a 
senseless  machine?"  Is  not  our  lot,  with  all  our  experience 
of  pain  and  wrong,  vastly  preferable  to  theirs,  even  with  their 
supposed  immunity  from  physical  suffering?  Sin,  of  course, 
they  are  not  capable  of.  Or  can  we  imagine  any  possible  con- 
stitution of  the  human  mind,  or  any  government  of  tliis  world's 
affairs,  which  shall  effectually  exclude  evil  without  reducing 
man  to  the  situation  of  an  animal  or  a  machine  ?  If  not,  if  no 
hetter  system  in  this  respect  is  even  conceivable,  to  say  nothing  of 
its  possibility,  then  is  the  present  one  the  iest  possible,  and  both 
the  justice  and  the  benevolence  of  its  Author  are  amply  vindi- 
cated. Our  inability  to  conceive  of  a  better  one  cannot  be 
referred  to  the  limitation  of  our  faculties,  since  we  are  not  called 
upon  to  devise  a  scheme,  but  are  enabled  to  see  that  any  im- 
provement of  the  present  one,  in  respect  generally  of  the  pres- 
ence of  evil,  would  involve  a  contradiction  or  an  absurdity. 

General  laws  are  necessa/)^y  to  guide  beings  who  are  endowed 
with  freewill.  —  In  order  to  apply  this  general  solution  of  the 
problem  to  particular  instances  of  misfortune  and  wrong,  we 


THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL.  381 

must  remember  that  the  scheme  of  Divine  government  is  to  be 
taken  as  a  whole.  Whatever  is  essential  to  carry  out  any  part 
of  the  plan ^  must  he  regarded  as  a  necessary  feature  of  the  sy stern, 
and  we  must  accept  all  its  consequences  along  with  it.  The  edu- 
cation of  man,  both  moral  and  intellectual,  by  his  owti  effort, 
being  the  object  to  be  gained,  it  becomes  necessary  that  the 
course  of  events  should  be  governed  by  general  laivs  ;  or,  in  other 
words,  that  the  action  and  government  of  the  Deity  should  be 
uniform,  so  that  events  should  not  appear  to  us  to  succeed  each 
other  confusedly  or  at  random,  but  in  a  fixed  relation  of  ante- 
cedence and  consequence.  If  reason  is  to  take  the  place  of 
instinct,  that  is,  if  man  is  to  be  self-taught,  instead  of  being 
directly  moved,  like  an  automaton,  by  superior  wisdom  and 
power,  then  the  means  and  appliances  must  be  provided  through 
which  alone  reason  can  act.  As  a  guide  to  conduct,  reason 
would  be  useless  without  foresight.  We  could  not  shape  our 
actions  beforehand,  without  some  knowledge  of  the  future  which 
they  are  to  affect ;  nor  could  this  knowledge  be  gained,  without 
such  a  clew  as  is  afforded  by  the  uniformity  of  nature.  Ex- 
perience, the  great  teacher  of  reason,  derives  all  its  efficacy 
from  our  belief,  that  the  future  will  resemble  the  past,  that  bodies 
will  always  retain  their  properties,  that  food  will  continue  to 
nourish,  fire  to  burn,  and  poison  to  kill,  and  that  different 
motives  will  retain  generally  the  efficiency  they  have  often 
shown  in  swaying  the  conduct  of  others.  A  rational  being 
could  not  move  a  step,  except  at  random,  but  for  this  confidence 
in  the  permanency  of  natural  causes,  as  they  are  called.  We 
have  a  right  to  say,  then,  that  the  preservation  of  general  laivs  is 
an  essential  feature  of  that  scheme  of  Divine  government  which 
we  have  tried  to  develop,  —  that,  without  them,  man  could  not 
be  self-taught,  would  not  be  capable  of  progress,  could  not  be  a 
free  agent  or  a  moral  being.  It  is  no  paradox  to  say,  that  the 
continuance,  the  inflexibility,  of  the  law  of  gravitation,  is  essen- 
tial to  the  support  of  the  law  of  morality,  is  vital  to  the  exist- 
ence of  virtue  itself. 

General  laws   cannot   he   suspended  in  particular  cases. — ■ 
Then  we  must  accept  all  the  necessary  consequences  of  general 


882  THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL. 

laws  along  with  them.  In  the  vast  majority  of  instances,  we 
may  presume  tiiat  they  will  work  for  good,  tending  equally  to 
guide  the  conduct,  satisfy  the  wants,  and  promote  the  happiness 
of  man ;  and  this  presumption,  as  we  have  seen,  is  amply  sus- 
tained by  experience.  But  in  particular  cases,  their  very  inflex- 
ibility occasions  their  doing  apparent  harm  ;  and  these  are  the 
instances  of  evil  which  most  frequently  incline  men  to  murmur 
against  Divine  Providence.  They  are  called  "  accidents," 
"  misfortunes,"  and  even  the  believer  sometimes  repines  because 
the  good  are  not  protected  against  them.  But  it  has  been 
proved  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  chance,  or  accident,  or  for- 
tune. The  position  evfen  of  a  grain  of  sand,  the  waving  of  a 
leaf  in  the  wind,  is  determined,  not  indeed  by  the  blind  and 
mechanical  cooperation  of  the  properties  of  matter,  but  by  the 
same  wisdom  and  goodness  which  made  human  nature  capable 
of  virtue,  and  wiiich  dispose  all  events  for  the  guidance  and  the 
moral  improvement  of  the  human  family.  Unless  the  course 
of  these  events  were  uniform  and  inflexible,  the  whole  eff'ect  of 
the  lesson  would  be  lost.  It  seems  a  light  thing  for  the  sufferer 
under  a  particular  calamity  to  ask  that  the  law  of  order  may  be 
suspended  in  his  case,  at  least  for  this  time,  —  that  the  tempest 
may  not  wreck  his  vessel,  or  the  fire  consume  his  dwelling,  or 
the  blight  visit  his  fields,  —  that  the  hand  of  the  oppressor  may 
be  stayed,  and  the  wicked  may  cease  to  triumph.  But  as  mill- 
ions have  equal  reason  to  ask  for  the  same  indulgence,  if  the 
prayers  of  all  were  granted,  general  disorder  and  confusion 
would  ensue.  We  could  no  longer  profit  by  the  past,  or  prepare 
for  the  future.  Prudence  would  be  a  word  without  meaning, 
and  foresight  an  impossible  attainment.  The  study  of  nature, 
which  now,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  taxes  and  improves  the 
intellect  of  every  human  being,  would  be  a  profitless  collection 
of  individual  and  isolated  cases,  from  which  no  instruction  could 
be  gleaned ;  and,  as  such,  it  would  be  abandoned.  Having  no 
means  of  divining  the  future,  man  could  only  stumble  onward 
in  the  dark,  or  be  led  by  the  hand  at  every  step,  like  a  blind 
child,  through  the  palace  of  God's  works. 

"  If  we  attempt,"  says  Dr.  Ferguson,  "  to  conceive  such  a 


THE    ORIGIN   OF   EVIL.  383 

scene  as  some  skeptics  would  require  to  evince  the  wisdom  and 
goodness  of  God,  a  scene  in  which  every  desire  were  at  once 
gratified  without  delay,  difficulty,  or  trouble,  it  is  evident,  that,  on 
such  a  supposition,  the  end  of  every  active  pursuit  would  be 
anticipated ;  exertion  would  be  prevented,  every  faculty  remain 
unemployed,  and  mind  itself  would  be  no  more  than  a  conscious 
ness  of  languor  under  an  oppression  of  weariness,  such  as 
satiety  and  continued  inoccupation  are  known  to  produce.  On 
this  supposition,  all  the  active  powers  which  distinguish  human 
nature  would  be  superfluous,  and  only  serve  to  disturb  our  peace, 
or  sour  the  taste  of  those  inferior  pleasures  which  appear  to  be 
consistent  with  indolence  and  sloth," 

Suspension  of  the  law  would  work  greater  evils.  —  But  you 
ask  that  the  law  may  be  suspended  only  in  this  instance,  and 
still  be  allowed  to  prevail  elsewhere,  so  that,  here,  signal  virtue 
may  be  rewarded  or  saved  from  suffering,  while  the  uniformity 
of  Providence  may  be  maintained  as  a  guide  to  man  on  all 
other  occasions.  Passing  over  the  difficulty  already  adverted 
to,  that  the  number  of  equally  just  applications  for  interference 
would  so  far  balance  the  number  of  cases  in  wliich  the  law  held 
good,  as  to  destroy  all  confidence  in  the  uniformity  of  nature,  it 
is  important  to  consider  how  far  the  consequences  of  any  one 
interference  might  extend.  If  the  wind  is  not  to  blow,  in  order 
that  the  hopes  of  one  righteous  man  may  not  be  wrecked,  the 
atmosphere  may  stagnate  and  corrupt  over  large  regions  of 
space,  bringing  pestilence  and  death  to  thousands.  The  inun- 
dation that  sweeps  away  one  house,  may  fertilize  a  whole  district. 

*'  Think  we,  like  some  weak  prince,  the  Eternal  Cause, 
Prone  for  his  favorites  to  reverse  his  laws  ? 
When  the  loose  mountain  trembles  from  on  high, 
Shall  gravitation  cease,  if  you  go  by  ? 
Or  some  old  temple,  nodding  to  its  fall, 
For  Chartres'  head  reserve  the  hanging  wall "?  " 

Besides,  in  order  that  the  good  may  improve  in  goodness, 
there  jnust  be  something  contingent  and  uncertain  in  the  reivards 
of  virtue.  Constituted  as  we  are  in  other  respects,  and  general 
laws  still  holding  good  in  the  majority  of  cases,  the  invariable 


384  TUE    OKIGIN    OF    EVIL. 

visible  connection  of  virtue  with  happiness  would  destroy  the 
whole  foundation  of  disinterested  conduct.  Moreover,  the  mis- 
chance, as  we  call  it,  affects  only  the  outward  advantages  of 
rectitude  ;  its  inward  rewards  are  always  sure,  and  these  are  a 
sufficient  comjiensation  for  the  hardship  or  loss. 

"  ^Vliat  nothing  earthly  gives,  or  can  destroy, 
The  soul's  calm  sunshine  and  the  heartfelt  joy, 
Is  virtue's  prize ;  a  better  would  you  fix, 
Then  give  Humility  a  coach  and  six. 
Justice  a  conqueror's  sword,  or  Truth  a  gown, 
Or  Public  Spirit  its  great  cure,  a  crown." 

JEach  particular  virtue  presupposes  the  existence  of  its  oppO' 
site.  —  And  this  suggests  the  next  consideration,  that,  if  we  ex- 
amine separately  the  requisitions  of  the  moral  law,  we  shall 
find  that  each  individual  virtue  presupposes  the  existence  either 
of  misfortune  or  wrong.  Thus,  courage  would  not  be  possible 
without  danger,  nor  fortitude  without  j?am.  There  could  be  no 
temperance,  but  for  the  liability  to  excess,  and  no  benevolence,  un- 
less there  were  wants  to  satisfy,  or  sufferings  to  relieve.  Even 
justice  would  lose  the  greater  part  of  its  merit,  if  there  was  no 
self-denial  in  satisfying  its  demands.  Prudence  could  not  be 
exercised,  if  recklessness  could  not  suflfer  ;  and  even  veracity 
would  be  no  virtue,  if  one  coidd  not  help  telling  the  truth.  He 
who  could  not  do  harm  or  wrong,  might  still  be  innocent,  it  is 
true  ;  but  there  would  be  no  7ne7Ht  in  his  innocence.  In  short, 
merit  consists  in  withstanding  temptation,  alleviating  pain,  and 
opposing  wrong ;  so  that,  without  the  presence  of  evil,  there  would 
he  nothing  to  praise,  and  nothing  to  hlame.  These  reasons,  be 
it  observed,  account  not  only  for  the  permission  of  the  crimes, 
whether  of  omission  or  commission,  which  men  are  guilty  of, 
but  for  the  physical  evils  which  befall  us  from  the  unalterable 
course  of  external  nature,  or  are  only  so  far  connected  with 
mind,  that  we  must  assume  the  existence  of  a  sentient  being 
before  the  mischief  can  be  felt. 

Evil  has  always  a  compensating  good.  —  That  there  is  no 
evil,  dependent  on  natural  causes  alone,  which  has  not  its  com- 
pensating good,  is  a  truth  which  has  been  so  much  insisted 


THE    ORIGIN    OF   EVIL.  385 

Upon  by  writers  on  this  subject,  that  I  need  not  dwell  upon  it 
here.*  The  difficulty  of  finding  out  what  this  compensation  is, 
in  some  cases,  shows  the  imperfection  of  our  faculties,  but  cer- 
tainly does  not  accuse  the  benevolence  of  God.  The  most  ob- 
vious reason  for  this  difficulty,  is  the  vast  compass  of  the  system, 
of  which  each  individual  being  constitutes  so  small  a  part. 
"  Imagine  only,"  says  Shaftesbury,  "  some  person  entirely  a 
stranger  to  navigation,  and  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  sea  or 
waters :  How  great  his  astonishment,  when,  finding  himself  on 
board  some  vessel  anchored  at  sea,  remote  from  all  land  pros- 
pect, whilst  it  was  yet  a  calm,  he  viewed  the  ponderous  ma- 
chine, firm  and  motionless  in  the  midst  of  the  smooth  ocean, 
and  considered  its  foundation  beneath,  together  with  its  cord- 
age, masts,  and  sails  above,  —  how  easily  would  he  see  the 
whole  one  regular  structure,  all  things  depending  on  each  other ; 
the  uses  of  the  rooms  below,  the  lodgements,  and  the  conven- 
iences of  men  and  stores  !  But  being  ignorant  of  the  intent  and 
design  of  all  above,  would  he  pronounce  the  masts  and  cordage 
to  be  useless  and  cumbersome,  and  for  this  reason  condemn  the 
frame  and  despise  the  architect  ?  O,  my  friend,  let  us  not  thus 
betray  our  ignorance,  but  consider  where  we  are,  and  in  what  a 
universe !  Think  of  the  many  parts  of  the  vast  machine,  in 
which  we  have  so  little  insight,  and  of  which  it  is  impossible 
that  we  should  know  the  ends  and  uses  :  when,  instead  of  seeing 
to  the  highest  pendants,  we  see  only  some  lower  deck,  and  are 

*  "  Thus,  for  example,  i^overty,  or  the  want  of  riches,  is  generally  com- 
pensated by  having  more  hopes,  and  fewer  fears,  by  a  greater  share  of 
health,  and  a  more  exquisite  relish  of  the  smallest  enjoyments,  than  those 
who  possess  them  are  usually  blessed  with.  The  want  of  taste  and  gen- 
ius, with  all  the  pleasures  that  arise  from  them,  are  commonly  recom- 
pensed by  a  more  useful  kind  of  common  sense,  together  with  a  wonderful 
delight,  as  well  as  success,  in  the  busy  pursuits  of  a  scrambling  world. 
The  sufferings  of  the  sick  are  greatly  relieved  by  many  trifling  gratifica- 
tions imperceptible  to  others,  and  sometimes  almost  repaid  by  the  incon- 
ceivable transports  occasioned  by  the  return  of  health  and  ipgor.  Folly 
cannot  be  very  grievous,  because  imperceptible ;  and  I  doubt  not  but  there 
is  some  truth  in  that  rant  of  a  mad  poet.  That  there  is  a  pleasure  in  being 
mad,  which  none  but  madmen  know."  —  Soame  Jenyns. 

33 


386  THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL. 

in  this  dark  case  of  flesh  confined,  even  to  the  hold  and  meanest 
station  of  the  vesseh" 

General  laws,  on  the  whole,  promote  order  and  happiness.  — 
Every  discovery  in  science,  all  progress  in  the  knowledge  of 
nature,  goes  to  illustrate  and  confirm  the  truth,  that  the  tendency 
of  the  general  laws  which  prevail  in  the  universe  is  favorable, 
on  the  whole,  to  order  and  to  happiness.  Time  is  necessary, 
that  this  truth  may  become  known.  An  observer  of  vegetable 
life,  whose  knowledge  was  confined  to  a  single  year,  would  con- 
sider the  approach  of  winter  as  an  irreparable  calamity.  The 
falUng  of  the  foliage,  the  death  of  annual  plants,  the  earth  sealed 
up  by  frosts,  and  the  skies  darkened  by  storms,  would  appear 
to  him  not  merely  as  unredeemed  evils,  but  as  tokens  of  a  uni- 
versal cessation  of  life,  if  not  of  a  dissolution  of  all  things.  But 
so  familiar  to  us  is  the  fact,  that  the  decay  of  plants  is  neces- 
sary to  keep  up  the  fertility  of  the  ground,  and  that  the  powers 
of  vegetation,  suspended  during  the  winter,  burst  forth  with  ad- 
ditional luxuriance  in  the  spring,  that  we  hardly  think  of  reck- 
oning the  end  of  the  glories  of  autumn  among  the  evils  of  nature. 
The  most  poisonous  plants,  when  administered  with  skill  and  in 
moderate  doses,  have  been  found  to  possess  the  most  valuable 
medicinal  qualities.  The  pain  which  follows  cutting  or  other- 
wise wounding  the  flesh,  and  generally  the  great  sensitiveness 
of  the  outer  surface  of  the  body,  were  thought,  till  very  recently, 
to  be  unmitigated  evils ;  but  it  is  now  ascertained,  from  the  dis- 
tribution of  this  sensitiveness,  that  its  purpose  is  unquestionably 
one  of  pure  benevolence,  its  office  being  to  warn  us  against  the 
approach  of  bodily  harm,  since  those  parts  which  are  not  liable 
to  injury  are  not  rendered  sensitive.  But  the  skeptic  will  ask. 
If  Omnipotence  coidd  not  guard  us  against  such  harm,  without 
the  use  of  means  that  involve  suffering  ?  Certainly  it  could,  just 
as  it  does,  in  the  case  of  the  lower  animals,  hy  leading  us  blind- 
fold away  from  the  harm,  compelling  us  to  take  precautions 
against  it  without  our  being  conscious  that  they  are  precautions. 
But  then  iMiere  would  be  human  reason,  forethought,  and  free- 
will ?  or  how  would  mental  and  moral  discipline,  or  self-educa- 
tion, be  possible  ?     Consistently  with  the  preservation  of  these 


THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL.  387 

great  ends,  which  we  have  seen  to  be  paramount  in  importance 
over  all  others  for  man's  own  good,  we  may  confidently  say, 
that  the  means  actually  adopted  in  man's  case  are  the  wisest, 
kindest,  and  best. 

Special  provision  against  j^ain.  —  But  the  progress  of  dis- 
covery within  a  year  or  two  has  added  another  and  still  more 
striking  illustration  of  the  truth  here  referred  to.  To  the  per- 
fection of  the  plan  just  described,  for  warding  off  bodily  harm, 
it  might  have  been  objected,  that  surgical  operations  sometimes 
become  necessary  for  removing  a  deeply  seated  injury,  and  that 
the  pain  which  the  surgeon  is  then  obliged  to  inflict,  being  use- 
less for  its  original  purpose  of  warning  us  against  danger,  is  an 
evil  without  compensation.  This  objection,  I  say,  might  have 
been  made,  though  it  would  not  have  seemed  a  very  reasonable 
one ;  for  it  amounts  to  asking,  that,  under  a  system  of  which  the 
preservation  of  general  laws  is  an  essential  part,  precisely  the 
same  thing  —  namely,  the  cutting  of  the  flesh  —  should  be  at- 
tended with  pain,  if  done  accidentally,  but  should  be  free  from 
pain,  if  done  intentionally,  and  with  a  benevolent  purpose. 
This  would  seem  to  be  a  contradiction.  But  who  shall  prescribe 
bounds  to  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  God?  Certain  sub- 
stances in  nature  have  been  endowed  with  such  properties,  that 
when  administered  to  the  patient,  without  "causing  any  harm  to 
his  bodily  constitution,  his  sensibility  to  pain,  for  a  time,  is  en- 
tirely destroyed,  and  the  surgeon  may  do  his  most  formidable 
office  upon  him,  while  he  is  enjoying  the  happiest  of  dreams. 
Will  even  the  skeptic  dare  affirm,  that  the  marvellous  anaes- 
thetic properties  of  ether  and  chloroform  were  not  added  to 
these  substances  for  the  express  purpose  which  they  have 
recently  been  discovered  to  answer,  or  that  the  discovery  itself, 
so  unexpectedly  made,  was  not  intended  both  to  reward  and 
stimulate  man's  researches  in  science  with  a  view  of  doing  good 
to  his  fellows,  so  that  it  is  comprehended  under  that  vast  scheme 
of  self-education  which  is  the  great  object  of  man's  earthly  ex- 
istence ?  In  reference  only  to  this  discovery  and  its  immediate 
results,  it  is  not  going  too  far  to  apply  the  remark  first  made  in 
regard  to  the  astronomer,  and  to  say  that  the  undevout  surgeon 
is  mad. 


388  THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL. 

Increase  of  knoichdfje  would  explain  away  other  evils.  —  Self- 
improveineiit,  both  of  the  iiulividual  and  of  the  race,  seems  to 
be  the  leading  purpose  of  the  Deity  in  the  government  of  man- 
kind. The  several  parts  of  man's  nature  are  developed  through 
their  influence  on  each  other,  and  in  due  proportion.  The  cul- 
tivation of  his  intellect,  and  the  stores  of  knowledge  thereby 
amassed,  are  continually  adding  to  the  safeguards  of  conscience 
and  to  the  evidences  of  religion,  —  continually  doing  away  with 
those  objections  to  the  providence  of  God,  which,  in  the  infancy 
of  the  race,  perhaps,  can  be  met  by  the  humility  and  the  power 
of  Faith  alone.  Who  can  say  how  many  of  the  apparent  in- 
dividual evils  of  man's  condition  upon  earth,  now  inexplicable, 
except  from  the  general  consideration  that  the  possibility  of  suf- 
fering and  sin  is  absolutely  essential  to  any  progress  in  happi- 
ness and  virtue,  will  be  directly  explained  away  by  the  future 
triumphs  of  science,  wdiich  has  recently  shed  so  much  light  upon 
the  beneficent  constitution  of  the  body  in  regard  to  pain  ?  * 


=*  In  the  argument  from  design,  as  Lord  Brougham  remarks,  we  infer 
that  contrivance  is  universal,  because  we  are  able  to  trace  and  comprehend 
it  in  the  great  majority  of  instances  ;  the  number  of  exceptions  to  the 
rule  continually  diminishing  as  our  knowledge  of  nature  increases,  we 
have  a  right  to  conclude,  with  respect  to  every  natural  arrangement  in 
which  we  cannot  yet  detect  a  purpose,  that  the  fault  is  only  in  our  imper- 
fect information,  —  that  the  purpose  exists,  though  we  have  not  yet  dis- 
covered it,  and  that  the  Deity  really  does  nothing  in  vain,  though  man 
may  not  be  able,  in  every  case,  to  read  His  designs. 

The  same  form  of  reasoning  may  be  employed,  when  we  would  account 
for  the  origin  of  evil.  Many  things  were  considered  by  the  ancients  to  be 
unmitigated  evils,  which,  as  the  progress  of  modern  science  has  shown, 
ought  rather  to  be  considered  as  unmingled  good.  The  instance  given  in 
the  text  is  a  fair  example.  We  can  now  see,  that  the  liability  to  pain 
never  exists  except  where  it  answers  a  useful  purpose,  —  that  of  warning 
us  ao-ainst  danger ;  and  that  means  are  placed  within  our  reach  to  effect  a 
temporary  suspension  of  the  pain  even  in  these  cases,  if  any  necessity 
arises  for  performing  a  surgical  operation.  Modern  investigations  have 
brought  to  light  so  many  instances  of  this  sort,  that  a  fair  induction  from 
them  enables  us  to  conclude,  that  all  the  remaining  specks  will  disappear, 
as  soon  as  scientific  research  is  carried  far  enough.  We  may  even  discern 
a  reason  why  they  are  still  allowed  to  dim  the  prospect ;  it  is  that  we  may 


THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL.  389 

That  the  general  laws  of  the  universe  are  favorable  to  order 
and  to  happiness,  is  an  observation,  says  Mr.  Stewart,  which  "  I 
am  persuaded  will  appear,  upon  an  accurate  examination,  to 
hold  Avithout  any  exception  whatever;  and  it  is  one  of  the 
noblest  employments  of  philosophy  to  verify  and  illustrate  its 
universality,  by  investigating  the  beneficent  purposes  to  which 
the  laws  of  nature  are  subservient.  Now,  it  is  evidently yVom 
these  general  laws  alone,  that  the  ultimate  ends  of  Providence  can 
he  judged  of,  and  not  from  their  accidental  collisions  with  the 
partial  interests  of  individuals ;  —  collisions,  too,  which  so  often 
arise  from  an  abuse  of  their  moral  liberty.  It  is  the  great  error 
of  the  vulgar  (who  are  incapable  of  comprehensive  views)  to 
attempt  to  read  the  ways  of  Providence   in  particular  events, 


be  incited  to  make  the  requisite  efforts  for  the  attainment  of  that  knowl- 
edge in  whose  light  they  will  finally  disappear, 

"  The  problem  has  been  solved  by  mathematicians,  Sir  Isaac  Newton 
having  first  investigated  it,  of  finding  the  form  of  a  symmetrical  solid,  or 
solid  of  revolution,  which  in  moving  through  a  fluid  shall  experience  the 
least  possible  resistance  ;  in  other  words,  of  finding  the  form  which  must 
be  impressed  upon  any  given  bulk  of  matter,  so  that  it  shall  move  more 
easily  through  a  surrounding  fluid  than  if  it  had  any  other  conceivable 
form  whatever,  with  a  breadth  or  a  length  also  given.  The  figure  bears  a 
striking  resemblance  to  that  of  a  fish.  Kow  suppose  a  fish  Avere  formed 
exactly  in  this  shape,  and  that  some  animal  endowed  with  reason  Avere 
placed  upon  a  portion  of  its  surface,  and  able  to  trace  its  form  for  only  a 
limited  extent,  say  at  the  narrow  part,  where  the  broad  portion  or  end  of 
the  moving  body  was  opposed,  or  seemed  as  if  it  were  opposed,  to  the  sur- 
rounding fluid  when  the  fish  moved ;  —  the  reasoner  w'ould  at  once  con- 
clude, that  the  contrivance  of  the  fish's  form  was  very  inconvenient  and 
artificial,  and  that  nothing  could  be  worse  adapted  for  expeditions  or  easy 
movement  through  the  waters.  Yet  it  is  certain,  that,  upon  being  after- 
wards permitted  to  view  the  whole  body  of  the  fish,  wliat  had  seemed  a 
defect  and  an  evil,  not  only  would  appear  plainly  to  be  none  at  all,  but  it 
would  appear  manifest,  that  this  seeming  evil  or  defect  was  a  part  of  the 
most  perfect  and  excellent  structure  Avhich  it  was  possible  even  for  Om- 
nipotence and  Omniscience  to  have  adopted,  and  that  no  other  conceivable 
arrangement  could  by  possibility  have  produced  so  much  advantage,  or 
tended  so  much  to  fulfil  the  design  in  view."  —  Brougham's  Supplementary 
Dissertations  to  Paley. 

33  * 


390  TIIK    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL. 

and  to  judge  favorably  or  unfavorably  of  tlie  order  of  the  uni- 
verse from  its  accidental  effects  with  respect  to  themselves  or 
their  friends.  Perhaps,  indeed,  this  disposition  is  inseparable, 
in  some  degree,  from  the  weakness  of  humanity.  But  surely  it 
is  a  weakness,  which  we  ought  to  strive  to  correct ;  and  the 
more  we  do  correct  it,  the  more  pleasing  our  conceptions  of  the 
universe  become.  Accidental  inconveniences  disappear,  when 
compared  with  the  magnitude  of  the  advantages  which  it  is  the 
object  of  the  general  laws  to  secure :  '  or,'  as  one  author  has 
expressed  it,  ^  scattered  evils  are  lost  in  the  blaze  of  superabun- 
dant goodness,  as  the  spots  on  the  disk  of  the  sun  are  lost  in  the 
splendor  of  his  rays.' " 

Merit  determined  hy  progress,  not  hy  attaimnent.  —  That 
progress  in  knowledge,  happiness,  and  virtue,  effected  through 
our  own  exertions,  and  not  the  mere  attainment  of  any  fixed 
point  or  degree  in  either,  is  the  main  purpose  of  our  being  here 
below,  and  really  our  greatest  good,  is  a  doctrine  which  imme- 
diately explains  away  all  those  supposed  evils  in  human  condi- 
tion, which  are  usually  classed  under  the  heads  of  inequality  and 
imperfection.  All  conditions  are  alike  in  this  respect,  inasmuch 
as  all  admit  of  advance  and  improvement ;  the  progress  of  each 
individual  being  measured  from  his  own  starting  point,  all  have 
an  equal  chance  of  winning  the  prize,  though  the  lot  of  some  be 
cast  in  the  early  ages  of  hoar  antiquity,  and  others  are  seem- 
ingly favored  by  the  intelligence,  the  arts,  and  the  morals  .of 
civilized  nations  and  modern  times.  The  happiness  of  each,  as 
we  have  seen,  is  computed  by  his  own  standard  of  happiness, 
whatever  that  may  be ;  and  his  merit,  also,  is  determined  by 
the  measure  of  his  moral  improvement,  and  not  by  the  refine- 
ment of  those  ideas  of  virtue  wdiicli  he  may  finally  attain.  It 
is,  then,  so  far  from  an  impeachment  of  the  goodness  of  the  Cre- 
ator that  he  has  made  us  finite  beings,  finite  in  our  existence, 
our  capacities,  our  virtues,  and  our  enjoyments,  that  we  see  at 
once,  infinity  or  perfection  is  the  only  point  from,  which  progress 
is  impossible.  Death  alone,  or  in  itself  considered,  apart  from 
the  antecedent  dread  of  it,  and  froni  the  injury  to  the  feelings 
of  the  survivors,  is  not  even  an  apparent  evil,  any  more  than 


THE    ORIGIN    OF    EVIL.  391 

the  fact  of  our  non-existence  through  antecedent  ages.*  It  is 
matter  of  the  commonest  observation,  also,  that  it  is  not  the 
possession  of  any  given  quantity  of  the  means  of  enjoyment, 
however  great,  but  the  increase  of  that  quantity,  whether  the 
original  sum  were  a  unit  or  a  million,  which  makes  a  man 
happy.  To  adopt  Paley's  illustration,  "  It  is  not  the  income 
•which  any  man  possesses,  but  the  increase  of  income  that  af- 
fords the  pleasure." 

Virtue  and  happiness  determined  only  hy  reference  to  capacity. 
—  How  unphilosophical,  then,  as  well  as  ungrateful,  is  that 
frame  of  mind  which  looks  with  a  jaundiced  eye  over  creation, 
intent  only  on  spying  out  its  evils  and  imperfections ;  which 
pities  the  oyster,  because  it  is  inferior  to  the  vertebrated  ani- 
mal, the  quadruped,  because  it  is  not  equal  to  man,  and  man,  be- 
cause his  finite  capacities  are  far  below  the  perfections  of  the 
Infinite  One  !     Yet  it  is  only  such  reasoning  as  this,  which  has 

*  There  is  so  much  truth^  as  well  as  beauty,  in  the  following  remarks  by 
Soame  Jenjois,  that  1  quote  the  whole  passage,  though  some  of  the  partic- 
ular statements  and  arguments  in  it  are  open  to  criticism. 

"  Death,  the  last  and  most  dreadful  of  all  evils,  is  so  far  from  being 
one,  that  it  is  the  infallible  cure  of  all  others. 

To  die  is  landing  on  some  silent  shore, 
"\Miere  billows  never  beat,  nor  tempests  roar  ; 
Ere  well  we  feel  the  friendly  stroke,  't  is  o'er. 

For,  abstracted  from  the  sickness  and  sufferings  usually  attending  it,  it  is 
no  more  than  the  expiration  of  that  term  of  life  God  was  pleased  to  be- 
stow on  us,  without  any  claim  or  merit  on  our  part.  But  was  it  an 
evil  ever  so  great,  it  could  not  be  remedied  but  by  one  much  greater,  which 
is  by  living  for  ever ;  by  which  means,  our  wickedness,  unrestrained  by  the 
prospect  of  a  future  state,  would  grow  so  insupportable,  our  sufferings  so 
intolerable  by  perseverance,  and  our  pleasures  so  tiresome  by  repetition, 
that  no  being  in  the  universe  could  be  so  completely  miserable  as  a  spe- 
cies of  immortal  men.  We  have  no  reason,  therefore,  to  look  upon  death 
as  an  evil,  or  to  fear  it  as  a  punishment,  even  without  any  supposition  of 
a  future  life  :  but  if  we  consider  it  as  a  passage  to  a  more  perfect  state,  or 
a  remove  only  in  art  eternal  succession  of  still  improving  states,  (for  which 
we  have  the  strongest  reasons),  it  will  then  appear  a  new  favor  from  the 
divine  munificence ;  and  a  man  must  be  as  absurd  to  repine  at  dying, 
as  a  traveller  would  be,  who  proposed  to  himself  a  delightful  tour  through 


392  THE    ORIGIN    OF   EVIL. 

made  the  problem  respecting  the  origin  of  evil  to  appear  insolu- 
ble. However  great  the  good  which  is  actually  provided  may- 
be, the  skeptic  fancies  that  he  may  always  ask,  Why  is  it  not 
greater  ?  If  mankind  are  happy,  why  were  they  not  created 
earlier,  or  why  do  they  not  now  exist  in  greater  numbers? 
Here  is  the  error  of  supposing  that  virtue  and  happiness  are 
tangible  products,  instead  of  abstract  ideas,  —  are  quantities 
which  may  be  weighed  or  measured,  the  goodness  of  the  Crea- 
tor being  estimated  by  the  magnitude  of  the  aggregate.  But  it 
is  not  so ;  each  can  be  determined  only  in  reference  to  the  ca- 
pacities of  the  individual,  whose  cup  of  enjoyment,  w^hatever  its 
dimensions  may  be,  being  full,  or  whose  merit  being  positive 
from  the  moral  improvement  that  he  has  made,  no  matter  where 
he  began  or  where  he  leaves  off,  the  equity  of  the  Divine  gov- 
ernment, in  his  respect,  is  sufficiently  vindicated.  Hence  the 
justice  as  well  as  the  beauty  of  the  solemn  affirmation  of  our 

various  unknown  countries,  to  lament  that  he  cannot  take  up  his  residence 
at  the  first  dirty  inn  which  he  baits  at  on  the  road. 

"  The  instability  of  human  life,  or  the  hasty  changes  of  its  successive 
periods,  of  which  we  so  frequently  complain,  are  no  more  than  the  neces- 
sary progress  of  it  to  this  necessary  conclusion  ;  and  are  so  far  from  being 
evils  deserving  these  complaints,  that  they  ai'e  the  source  of  our  greatest 
pleasures,  as  they  are  the  source  of  all  novelty,  from  which  our  greatest 
pleasures  are  ever  derived.  The  continual  succession  of  seasons  in  the 
human  life,  by  daily  presenting  to  us  new  scenes,  render  it  agreeable,  and 
like  those  of  the  year,  afford  us  delights  by  their  change,  which  the  choicest 
of  them  could  not  give  us  by  their  continuance.  In  the  spring  of  life,  the 
gilding  of  the  sunshine,  the  verdure  of  the  fields,  and  the  variegated  paint- 
ings of  the  sky,  are  so  exquisite  in  the  eyes  of  infants  at  their  first  looking 
abroad  into  a  new  world,  as  nothing  perhaps  afterwards  can  equal.  The 
heat  and  vigor  of  the  succeeding  summer  of  youth  ripens  for  us  new 
pleasures,  the  blooming  maid,  the  nightly  revel,  and  the  jovial  chase :  the 
serene  autumn  of  complete  manhood  feasts  us  Avith  the  golden  harvests  of 
our  worldly  pursuits  :  nor  is  the  hoary  winter  of  old  age  destitute  of  its 
peculiar  comforts  and  enjoyments,  of  which  the  recollection  and  relation 
of  those  past  are  perhaps  none  of  the  least ;  and  at  last,  death  opens  to  us 
a  new  prospect,  from  whence  we  shall  probably  look  back  upon  the  diver- 
sions and  occupations  of  this  world  with  the  same  contempt  we  do  now  on 
our  tops,  and  hobby-horses,  and  with  the  same  surprise,  that  they  could 
ever  so  much  entertain  or  engage  us."  —  Soame  Jenyns. 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  393 

Saviour,  that  "  There  is  more  joy  in  heaven  over  one  sinner 
that  repenteth,  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just  persons  who  need 
no  repentance."  A  German  writer  has  expressed  the  same 
general  truth  in  a  forcible,  perhaps  hyperbolical,  manner. 
"  If,"  says  Lessing,  "  God  should  hold  all  truths  inclosed  in  his 
right  hand,  and  in  his  left,  only  the  ever-active  impulse  to  the 
pursuit  of  truth,  although  with  the  condition  that  I  should 
always  and  for  ever  err,  and  should  say  to  me.  Choose !  —  I 
should  fall  with  submission  upon  his  left  hand,  and  say,  Father, 
give !  Pure  Truth  is  for  Thee  alone." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD. 


Summary  of  the  last  chapter,  —  It  was  remarked  in  the  last 
chapter,  in  reference  to  the  problem  respecting  the  origin  of 
evil,  that  we  need  not  consider  how  much  evil  there  is  in  the 
world ;  for  the  problem  is  solved,  when  we  can  account  for  the 
existence  of  any  evil,  however  small,  and  show  that  it  is  recon- 
cilable with  a  belief  in  the  infinite  goodness  and  almighty  power 
of  the  Creator.  Now,  omnipotence  does  not  include  the  power 
to  accomplish  a  metaphysical  impossibility,  the  statement  of 
which  always  involves  a  contradiction,  or,  in  other  words,  is  an 
absurd  and  meaningless  statement.  It  is  just  as  contradictory 
to  suppose  that  virtue  can  exist  without  a  free  choice  between 
good  and  evil,  as  that  four  is  not  equal  to  twice  two ;  for  freedom 
is  involved  in  the  idea  of  virtue,  just  as  twice  two  is  involved  in 
the  idea  of  four.  The  phrase  compulsory  or  enforced  virttie, 
is  quite  as  absurd  as  that  of  a  virtuous  machine.  Sin  and  suf- 
fering, therefore,  must  be  possible,  if  virtue  is  to  be  possible ; 
and  if  virtue  is  man's  highest  interest,  which  both  reason  and 


394  THE    UNITY    OF    GOD. 

conscience  loudly  declare,  then  it  is  not  only  compatible  with 
infinite  benevolence,  but  essential  to  it,  that  pain  and  wrong 
should  be  permitted.  The  balance  is  consequently  on  the  side 
of  good,  or  a  greater  good  is  accomplished  than  would  otherwise 
be  possible.  Benevolence  does  not  consist  simply  in  preventing 
pain,  but  in  bestowing  the  largest  amount,  or  balance,  of  pleas- 
ure ;  just  as  a  man  with  an  income  of  a  thousand  a  year,  but 
who  is  in  debt  for  a  hundred,  is  still  richer  than  one  with  an 
annual  revenue  of  five  hundred,  which  is  wholly  unincumbered. 
It  was  shown  that  no  exemption  from  evil  was  possible,  or  even 
conceivable,  which  would  not  reduce  man  to  the  condition  of  a 
brute  or  a  machine ;  and  as  his  state,  at  the  worst,  is  immeasu- 
rably preferable  to  theirs,  his  state  is,  in  fact,  the  best  possible ; 
for  we  cannot  even  conceive  of  a  better  one,  —  that  is,  we  can- 
not point  out  any  defect  in  it. 

Li  applying  this  solution  to  particular  cases  of  evil,  it  was  re- 
marked, that  education  self-acquired,  or  progress  in  virtue  and 
happiness  through  one's  own  efforts,  is  our  greatest  good,  and 
the  final  end  of  our  being  here  below.  It  is  essential  for  such 
progress  that  the  universe  should  be  governed  by  general  laws  ; 
that  is,  that  the  course  of  nature,  or  the  action  of  the  Deity, 
should  be  uniform ;  —  reason  would  otherwise  be  inferior  to  in- 
stinct, and  could  not  operate  as  a  guide  to  conduct.  We  may 
expect  that  the  general  tendency  of  these  laws  will  promote 
order  and  happiness ;  but,  for  the  very  reason  that  they  are 
general  and  inflexible,  they  must  sometimes  conflict  with  the 
interests  of  individuals.  The  weakness  of  human  nature  is 
prone  to  magnify  the  importance  of  these  collisions,  and  to  com- 
plain of  them  as  defects  in  the  order  of  Providence.  In  a 
broader  view,  they  are  seen  to  be  necessary  parts  of  a  system 
devised  by  infinite  wisdom  and  benevolence  for  the  highest 
interests  of  mankind.  Some  good  always  results  from  them ; 
none  are  without  compensation,  in  respect  either  of  outward  ad- 
vantages or  of  inward  enjoyment.  The  imperfections  and  ine- 
qualities of  human  condition  cease  to  appear  as  evils,  when 
self-improvement,  or  an  advance  in  knowledge,  virtue,  and  hap- 
piness; is  regarded  as  the  principal  aim  of  our  existence ;  upon 


THE    UNITY   OF    GOD.  395 

this  theory,  all  start  alike,  and  we  no  longer  regret  that  absolute 
perfection  is  unattainable,  when  we  remember  that  it  is  the  only 
state  in  which  progress  is  impossible.  As  science  advances,  and 
we  learn  more  of  the  secrets  of  nature  and  the  purposes  of  the 
Deity,  these  apparent  evils  lessen  in  number  and  gradually  fade 
away.  Bodily  pain,  which  ranks  first  among  them  in  the  esti- 
mation of  the  vulgar,  has  been  shown  by  recent  discoveries  to 
be  a  purely  beneficent  institution ;  and  as  our  horizon  enlarges 
and  our  vision  improves,  there  is  every  reason  to  hope,  that  all 
the  other  ills  of  our  lot  will  appear  either  imaginary,  or  such  as 
would  in  no  way  interfere  with  the  enjoyment  of  a  wise  and 
good  man.  The  specks  that  are  apparent  in  the  administration 
of  this  world's  affairs  will  be  lost  in  the  unutterable  splendors 
of  Divine  justice,  mercy,  and  love. 

The  doctrine  of  the  Manichceans.  —  Among  the  most  remark- 
able theories  to  which  the  discussions  respecting  the  origin  of 
evil  have  given  rise,  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Manichaeans,  who 
maintained  that  the  world  is  governed  by  two  coeternal  and 
independent  principles,  or  deities,  the  one  benevolent  and  the 
other  malicious ;  and  that  from  the  perpetual  conflict  between 
them  arises  the  mingling  of  joy  with  woe  in  the  condition  of 
mankind.  This  belief,  irreconcilable,  as  it  appears,  either  with 
sound  reason  or  pure  religion,  existed  even  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Christian  church  in  its  earlier  ages,  so  renowned  a  theologian  as 
St.  Augustine  having  once  adhered  to  it ;  and  some  traces  of 
it,  perhaps,  remain  to  the  present  day,  in  the  vulgar  doctrine 
respecting  devils.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  that,  from  a 
warfare  which  has  been  going  on  from  all  eternity  between  two 
'equally  powerful  deities,  nothing  but  confusion  could  ensue  ;  so 
that  the  theory  is  at  once  rebuked  by  the  order  and  harmony 
that  prevail  throughout  the  universe.  Their  alternate  reign 
might  explain  recurrent  periods  of  unmingled  happiness  and 
unmingled  misery,  but  would  not  do  away  with  the  objection 
arising  from  the  mixture  at  the  same  moment  of  good  with  evil. 
Both  could  not  be  almighty,  since  the  unbounded  power  of  one 
would  be  a  limitation  (that  is,  a  negation)  of  the  infinite  power 
of  the  other.     On  the  other  hand,  they  must  be  equally  mighty, 


396  THE    UNITY    OF    GOD. 

since,  otherwise,  th(!ir  purposes  always  clasliing,  the  stronger 
would  certainly  destroy  the  weaker,  or  reduce  him  to  inaction. 
But  the  existence  of  two  finite  beings  of  equal  attributes,  the 
one  perfectly  good,  and  the  other  irredeemably  wicked,  is  just 
as  dithcult  to  be  accounted  for  as  the  coexistence  of  good  and 
evil  among  mankind,  to  exjilain  which  this  theory  was  first  in- 
vented.* It  is  but  supposing  that  the  class  of  the  virtuous  is 
diminished  in  number  till  but  one  representative  of  it  remains, 
and  that  the  same  thing  takes  j^lace  with  regard  to  the  wicked ; 
—  a  supposition  which  throws  no  light  upon  the  main  question, 
why  any  wickedness  is  permitted. 

Polytheism  is  the  oldest  religious  belief.  —  But  having  already 
accounted  for  the  presence  of  evil,  we  need  not  concern  our- 
selves about  this  fable,  —  for  it  is  a  fable,  or  legend,  rather  than 
a  doctrine  of  philosophy  or  theology,  —  except  to  point  to  it  as 
one  of  the  forms  of  polytheism,  or  of  those  religious  systems 
that  are  not  based  upon  the  dogma  of  the  unity  of  God,  the 
subject  which  I  propose  to  discuss  in  the  present  chapter.  If 
w^e  look  only  at  what  Hume  calls  the  natural  history  of  religion, 


*  "  The  Manichaean  doctrine,  of  two  eternal  and  mutually  repugnant 
principles,"  says  Dr.  Crombie,  "seems  morally  impossible.  To  suppose 
an  eternal  and  infinite  being,  possessing  unlimited  wisdom  and  power, 
whose  nature  is  purely  malevolent,  is  to  suppose  the  coexistence  of  two 
irreconcilable  contrarieties.  Malignity,  implying  ignorance  and  weakness, 
cannot  possibly  coexist  with  the  attributes  of  infinite  power  and  infinite  wisdom. 
This  objection  alone  appears  fatal  to  the  hypothesis. 

"  Nor  is  the  hypothesis  more  defensible  on  the  supposition,  that  the  two 
eternal  beings  do  not  possess  infinite  wisdom  and  infinite  power.  If  such 
could  withoxxt  absurdity  be  supposed  to  exist,  they  must  either  possess 
these  attributes  in  an  equal  degree,  or  one  must  be  superior  to  the  other. 
If  we  take  the  former  alternative,  the  energies  of  both,  engaged  in  eternal 
conflict,  must  be  mutually  neutralized.  Every  effort  of  the  one  to  produce 
good  or  evil,  must  be  instantly  counteracted  by  the  opposition  of  the  other. 
Like  two  equal  contending  weights,  neither  could  preponderate.  Under 
the  conflicting  agencies  of  two  such  beings,  there  could  exist  neither  good 
nor  evil.  If  we  take  the  other  alternative,  and  suppose  the  superiority  of 
either,  it  is  evident  that  the  inferior  must  ultimately  yield,  and  the  struggle 
for  the  mastery  terminate  in  the  established  ascendency  of  his  more  saga- 
cious and  powerful  opponent."  —  Crombie's  Nat.  Theology,  Vol.  II.  p.  158. 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  397 

and  put  aside  the  inquiry  respecting  a  primitive  revelation  to 
mankind,  there  is  no  doubt  that  polytheism  is  the  most  ancient 
form  of  religious  faith,  as  it  is  still  the  most  prevalent  one.  It 
is  the  natural  belief  of  a  barbarous  or  half-civilized  nation,  who 
have  neither  tradition  nor  philosophy  to  set  them  right.  The 
religious  sentiment  in  man  is  indestructible.  Men  are  inclined 
to  venerate  and  worship  some  unseen  power  or  powers,  just  as 
strongly  as  to  exercise  the  benevolent  affections,  and  to  seek  out 
some  objects,  if  none  happen  to  be  originally  near  at  hand,  on 
which  these  feelings  may  expend  themselves.  The  manifesta- 
tion oi power  is  so  firmly  associated  in  every  one's  mind  with  the 
presence  of  a  conscious  individual  agency,  that  striking  physical 
occurrences,  such  as  tempests,  earthquakes,  inundations,  thunder, 
and  the  return  of  the  seasons,  are  unhesitatingly  referred,  at 
first,  each  to  its  peculiar  deity,  or  conscious  cause.  The  faith 
of  the  vulgar  is  soon  systematized,  expanded,  and  recorded  in 
the  first  rude  attempts  of  a  people  at  poetry,  philosophy,  and 
theology,  —  pursuits  which  are  naturally  antecedent  to  those  of 
the  physical  sciences,  for  the  same  reason  that  poetry  precedes 
prose ;  namely,  that  the  imagination  works  with  greater  facility 
and  pleasure  than  the  judgment  or  the  logical  faculty.  When 
thus  partially  reduced  to  order,  and  enshrined  in  verse,  this 
faith  becomes  a  system  of  mythology^  which,  from  the  variety 
and  interesting  character  of  its  materials,  will  always  maintain 
a  strong  hold  upon  uncultivated  minds,  though  the  learned  and 
the  philosophical  will  be  struck  with  a  view  of  its  incongruities 
and  absurdities,  and  will  strive  to  fashion  for  themselves  an 
esoteric  doctrine  of  a  single  principle,  which  sustains  and  gov- 
erns all  things. 

The  opinion,  that  polytheism  is  the  first  natural  product  of 
the  religious  sentiment  among  mankind,  and  that  it  everywhere 
preceded  a  belief  in  the  unity  of  God,  is  ably  sustained  by 
Hume,  a  portion  of  whose  argument  I  borrow  the  more  will- 
ingly, as  it  is  sanctioned  by  the  high  authority  of  Dugald 
Stewart.  "  It  seems  certain,"  says  Hume,  "  that,  according  to 
the  natural  progress  of  human  thought,  the  ignorant  multitude 
must   first   entertain  some  grovelling  and  familiar  notion  of 

34 


898  THE    UNITY    OF    GOD. 

superior  powers,  before  they  stretch  their  conception  to  thai 
perfect  Bemg  who  bestowed  order  on  the  whole  frame  of  nature. 
We  may  as  reasonably  imagine,  that  men  inhabited  palaces 
before  huts  and  cottages,  or  studied  geometry  before  agriculture, 
as  assert  that  the  Deity  appeared  to  them  a  pure  spirit,  omni- 
scient, omnipotent,  and  omnipresent,  before  he  was  apprehended 
to  be  a  powerful,  though  limited  being,  with  human  passions  and 
appetites,  limbs  and  organs.  The  mind  rises  gradually  from 
inferior  to  superior ;  by  abstracting  from  what  is  imperfect,  it 
forms  an  idea  of  perfection ;  and,  slowly  distinguishing  the  nobler 
parts  of  its  own  frame  from  the  grosser,  it  learns  to  transfer 
only  the  former,  much  elevated  and  refined,  to  its  divinity. 
Nothing  could  disturb  this  natural  progi'ess  of  thought,  but  some 
obvious  and  invincible  argument,  which  might  immediately  lead 
the  mind  into  the  pure  principles  of  theism,  and  make  it  over- 
leap, at  one  bound,  the  vast  interval  wliich  is  interposed  between 
the  human  and  the  Divine  nature.  But  though  I  allow,  that 
the  order  and  frame  of  the  universe,  when  accurately  examined, 
affords  such  an  argument,  yet  I  can  never  think  that  this  con- 
sideration could  have  an  influence  on  mankind  when  they  formed 
their  first  rude  notions  of  religion." 

The  progress  of  science  lessens  the  number  of  deities,  —  The 
number  and  variety  of  the  operations  of  nature  suggest  to  the 
ignorant  and  uninquiring  mind  a  corresponding  number  of  un- 
known causes  which  are  active  in  producing  them.  The  move- 
ments and  changeable  aspects  of  the  clouds,  the  air,  the  rivers, 
the  sea,  —  the  growth  of  plants,  and  the  diurnal  and  annual 
revolutions  of  the  starry  firmament,  are  referred  each  to  its 
hidden  cause  or  separate  deity ;  every  volcano  has  an  imprisoned 
demigod  struggling  under  it,  and  every  thunderstorm  suggests 
an  angry  deity  launchmg  his  bolts  against  his  foes.  As  science 
advances,  objects  and  events  are  classified,  and  causes  general- 
ized. Phenomena  the  most  unhke  in  outward  appearance,  are 
found  to  be  explicable  through  the  operation  of  one  and  the 
same  power.  The  law  of  gravitation  alone  explains  most  of 
the  physical  changes  which  were  arranged  by  the  ancients  under 
so  many  distinct  heads  and  sovereigns ;  many  others  are  trace- 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  399 

able  to  the  single  law  of  chemical  affinities.  Hence,  if  a 
mythology  were  to  be  constructed  now,  on  the  same  general 
principles  as  of  old,  Olympus  would  be  less  crowded. 

If,  from  purely  physical  occurrences,  we  turn  to  the  vicissitudes 
of  man^s  condition  and  the  general  course  of  human  affairs,  we 
find  a  similar  effect  produced  on  religious  belief.  In  barbar- 
ous ages,  the  lot  of  individuals  seems  to  be  determined  by  chance, 
or  by  the  conjunction  of  an  indefinite  number  of  causes.  The 
fortunes  of  war,  the  caprices  of  sovereigns,  the  ravages  (against 
w^hich  ignorance  has  no  shield)  of  famine  and  pestilence,  the 
rise  and  fall  of  dynasties,  and  the  brief  cycles  of  national  pros- 
perity and  adversity,  introduce  so  much  uncertainty  into  all  cal- 
culations respecting  the  future,  that  men  are  tempted  to  refer 
all  events  to  the  agency  of  a  crowd  of  independent  and  often 
hostile  deities,  against  whose  power  human-  strivings  produce 
but  little  effect.  But  the  study  of  history  and  of  the  laws  of  the 
human  mind,  with  a  knowledge  of  the  fundamental  principles 
of  politics  and  political  economy,  brings  order  into  this  chaos, 
and  makes  the  past  intelligible,  and  the  future  a  subject  of  cal- 
culation and  foresiglit.  Good  and  ill  fortune  are  now  referred 
to  their  true  sources,  in  the  characters  of  men  themselves,  and 
the  number  of  special  deities  who  exert  any  influence  over 
human  affairs,  is  rapidly  reduced  to  one. 

Two  conclusions  may  be  drawn  from  this  fact  of  the  early 
growth  of  polytheism.  The  first  is,  that  the  religious  sentiment 
alone  is  no  safe  guide  to  the  doctrine  of  the  unity  of  God ;  it  is 
equally  well  satisfied  by  the  worship  of  a  crowd  of  inferior  dei- 
ties. Reason  alone,  or  reason  aided  by  Revelation,  can  enable 
us  to  form  fit  conceptions  of  the  Supreme  Being.  Natural  the- 
ology is  the  product  of  the  understanding  and  the  moral  sense ; 
feeling  or  sentiment  only  affecting  the  mode  of  our  perception 
of  its  truths,  or  forming  the  atmosphere  through  which  we  re- 
gard them.  The  second  inference  is,  that  if,  at  an  early  period 
of  civilization,  among  a  people  otherwise  rude  and  ignorant,  or 
at  any  rate,  enjoying  no  special  advantages  over  surrounding 
nations,  a  belief  in  the  unity  of  God  is  found  to  be  a  prominent 


400  THE    UNITY    OF    GOD. 

feature  in  their  religion,  the  conckision  is  unavoidable,  that  this 
belief  came  from  immediate  revelation.  It  is  not  the  natural 
product  of  the  human  mind  under  such  circumstances ;  the  un- 
assisted reason  could  not  have  attained  to  it.  It  is  supernatural, 
then,  whether  it  be  a  remnant  of  the  knowledge  with  which  man 
was  originally  endowed  when  he  was  first  placed  upon  the 
earth,  and  by  which  alone  he  could  be  fitted  for  the  exigencies 
of  a  situation  at  once  novel  and  jDerilous,  or  a  special  communi- 
cation from  on  high,  designed  as  a  foundation  for  a  purer  faith, 
and  as  seed  for  subsequent  diffusion  among  all  tribes,  languages, 
and  nations. 

Polytheism  rejected  hy  educated  and  thinking  minds.  —  Poly- 
theism being  the  earliest  product  of  the  religious  sentiment,  and 
maintaining  a  strong  hold  upon  the  imaginations  of  the  vulgar, 
we  might  expect  that  high  mental  cultivation  would  either  en- 
able a  few  minds  to  detect  its  absurdities,  and  to  refine  it  into  a 
system  of  pure  theism,  or  that  these  few  would  themselves  fall 
back  into  utter  skepticism.  The  enlightened  class  among  the 
Greeks  and  Romans  really  fluctuated  betM^een  these  two  ex- 
tremes. They  derided  the  popular  faith,  but  they  had  nothing 
certain  to  put  in  its  place.  Their  speculations  upon  the  subject 
have  the  air  ratlier  of  exercises  of  fancy  and  rhetoric,  than  of 
the  argumentative  examination  of  a  theme  of  vital  importance 
to  man.  Socrates  was  perhaps  the  only  one  among  them,  of 
whose  opinions  and  reasonings  we  have  any  full  statement,  who 
entertained  decided  notions  respecting  the  character  and  func- 
tions of  the  Supreme  Being ;  and  it  was  the  purity  of  his  ethical 
system,  rather  than  the  soundness  of  his  philosophy  in  general, 
which  guided  him  to  a  right  conclusion.  His  pupil,  Plato,  mys- 
tified his  teacher's  doctrine  with  so  many  strange  fancies  and 
untenable  conceits,  that  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  he  was 
earnest  in  the  inquiry.  Of  course,  I  speak  only  of  those  who 
wrote  before  the  promulgation  of  Christianity,  as  the  silent  in- 
fluence of  this  faith  modified  the  opinions  of  many  who  did  not 
avowedly  embrace  it.  Cicero  has  little  claim  to  originality  in 
any  of  liis  philosophical  speculations ;  and  as,  at  different  times, 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  401 

be  argued  with  about  equal  warmth  on  both  sides  of  the  ques- 
tion respecting  the  existence  of  one  God,  it  is  not  likelj  that  he 
had  formed  any  decided  beUef  about  it. 

Polytheism  has  no  evidence  or  presumption  in  its  favor.  —  It 
is  matter  of  history,  then,  that  a  system  of  polytheism  has  never 
«;atisfied  the  requisitions  of  the  cultivated  and  inquiring  intel- 
lect ;  failing  to  struggle  up  from  it  to  clear  ideas  and  firm  con- 
victions respecting  the  unity  of  the  Deity,  the  best  minds,  edu- 
cated under  such  a  system,  have  fallen  back  upon  a  contemptu- 
ous estimate  of  the  faith  of  the  common  people,  and  a  general 
distrust  of  man's  capacity  to  form  a  purer  and  better-grounded 
doctrine.  It  is  unnecessary,  therefore,  to  disprove  polytheism^ 
for  there  is  no  evidence  or  presumption  in  its  favor.  It  is  a 
popular  prejudice,  or  a  poetical  fancy,  —  not  an  opinion  resting 
upon  argument,  or  a  system  devised  after  rational  inquiry  and 
upon  philosophical  principles.  We  have  found  proof,  clear  and 
abundant,  of  the  existence  of  one  God  ;  but  we  have  no  testi- 
mony, no  intimations  even,  that  there  are  many  gods.  The 
presumption  is  all  the  other  way ;  the  whole  course  of  the  rea- 
soning going  to  show  that  there  is  one  Supreme  Being,  Creator 
and  Governor  of  all  things.  To  assert  the  existence  of  others, 
is  to  deny  his  supremacy ;  if  polytheism  be  true,  there  are  be- 
ings whom  he  did  not  create  and  does  not  govern.  Indirectly, 
then,  the  whole  argument  that  we  have  thus  far  considered,  is 
an  argument  for  the  unity  of  the  Deity ;  since  the  conclusion  to 
which  it  leads  us,  is  directly  opposed  to  polytheism.  I  do  not 
say  that  it  disproves  the  existence  of  an  order  of  beings  su- 
perior to  the  human,  but  still  finite,  created,  and  dependent. 
There  may  be  such  intermediate  natures,  though  the  universe 
to  our  eyes  affords  no  trace  of  them,  and  the  question  whether 
they  exist  or  not  is  one  which  it  does  not  concern  us  to  answer. 
By  whatever  name  they  may  be  designated,  —  angels,  demons, 
or  ministering  spirits,  —  they  are  not  deities  ;  that  is,  they  are 
not  uncreated,  independent,  and  eternal.  "  It  s-eems  a  self-evi- 
dent proposition,  that  the  First  Cause  must  be  one ;  because,  if 
there  were  more,  they  would  want  some  prior  cause  to  assign 
them  their  several  stations  and  properties," 

34* 


402  THE    UNITY    OP    GOD. 

Argument  for  the  unity  of  God.  —  The  argument,  if  it  can  be 
called  such,  in  favor  of  the  unity  of  God,  is  usually  stated  thus : 
—  If  one  cause  is  sufficient  to  account  for  all  the  phenomena,  it 
is  needless  and  unphilosophical  to  suppose  that  there  are  sev- 
eral causes.  This  is  the  only  sort  of  proof  that  a  negative 
proposition  admits  of;  and  it  is  admitted  to  be  satisfactory  in 
physical  and  moral  science,  the  study  of  which  would  otherwise 
be  profitless  and  vain,  as  it  could  lead  to  no  definite  conclusion. 
Indirectly,  however,  we  may  substantiate  the  doctrine  of  the 
Divine  unity,  by  pointing  out  the  unity  of  design  which  prevails 
throughout  the  universe.  This  is  a  profitable  inquiry,  though 
its  direct  result  is  rather  to  establish  the  wisdom,  than  the  sin- 
gleness, of  the  creative  and  governing  Power.  As  it  throws 
light,  however,  upon  the  character  of  the  creation,  and  upon  the 
nature  of  the  Divine  government,  I  shall  devote  to  it  what  re- 
mains of  the  present  chapter. 

What  sort  of  effects  imply  unity  of  cause.  —  Objects  and 
events  are  considered  as  simple  or  complex  in  more  senses  than 
one.  If  absolutely  simple,  —  as,  for  instance,  a  clap  of  thunder, 
or  the  personality  of  one  human  being,  —  the  propriety  of  as- 
signing but  one  cause  to  it  is  sufficiently  evident.  It  is  incon- 
ceivable, that  many  causes  should  cooperate  for  the  production 
of  one  effect,  which  has  no  complexity  of  parts  ^  and  does  not  ad- 
mit of  degrees.  Many  arms  and  levers  may  act  together  in 
turning  over  a  heavy  stone ;  but  the  effect  here  is  really  com- 
plex, each  lever  actually  raising  some  of  the  weight,  in  propor- 
tion to  the  power  and  effort  expended  upon  it.  But  to  call  an 
absolutely  indivisible  atom  or  being  out  of  nothingness,  necessa- 
rily implies  unity  of  cause ;  for  every  exertion  of  power  must 
produce  some  effect,  and  if  two  powers  were  exerted  at  the  same 
instant,  two  effects,  or  an  effect  in  some  way  complex,  must  be 
produced.  The  indivisible  personality  of  one  human  being, 
then,  proves  to  a  demonstration,  that  the  beginning  of  his  ex- 
istence is  an  effect  due  to  one  creative  Cause.  If  one  man, 
therefore,  formed  the  whole  of  creation,  the  unity  of  the  Creator 
would  be  demonstrable.     But  this  is  not  the  case. 

Inference  from  unity  of  organization.  —  An  object,  however. 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  4.03 

may  be  considered  as  single  in  another  sense.  If  it  is  not  a 
mere  aggregate  of  parts,  but  a  system^  in  which  the  whole  is  the 
result  of  all  the  parts  taken  and  acting  together,  there  is  a  strong 
presumption,  though  not  an  absolute  proof,  that  it  is  the  effect 
of  one  cause.  Such  is  every  organism,  —  a  plant,  or  a  human 
body,  for  instance,  —  as  distinguished  from  inorganic  masses, 
like  a  rock^  or  a  heap  of  sand.  Here  the  probability  is  very 
great,  though  it  does  not  amount  to  certainty,  that  one  creative 
mind  presided  over  the  formation  of  this  virtual  whole.  The 
organism  is  complex,  indeed,  for  it  is  made  up  of  many  parts ; 
but  as  all  these  parts  have  an  intimate  connection  with  each 
other  and  with  the  whole,  we  presume  that  one  mind  must  have 
planned  the  whole,  and  executed  it,  either  directly  by  its  own 
power,  or  mediately,  through  subordinate  agents.  It  is  hardly 
possible  to  conceive  of  two  minds,  or  more,  perfectly  coinciding 
in  their  purposes  and  modes  of  execution :  to  our  apprehension, 
at  least,  two  such  minds  run  together  and  make  up  one  being, 
when  there  is  no  distinction  of  bodies  to  keep  them  apart.  Two 
purely  immaterial  existences  cannot  be  distinguished  from  each 
other,  according  to  human  conception,  except  by  the  difference 
of  their  purposes  and  acts  ;  and  any  such  difference  precludes 
the  supposition  of  their  cooperating  with  perfect  equality  in  the 
formation  of  one  of  these  virtual  wholes.  If  their  shares  in 
the  work  were  not  absolutely  equal,  then  one  was  superior  to 
the  other,  and  supremacy  implies  unity-  This  reasoning,  chiefly 
directed  against  the  hypothesis  of  two  creators,  applies  a  for- 
tiori to  that  of  three  or  more.  If  to  this  strong  presumption 
we  add  the  fact,  that  we  have  abundant  evidence  of  the  being 
of  one  God,  but  not  a  shadow  of  proof  that  there  is  more  than 
one,  the  doctrine  of  the  Divine  unity  is  established  beyond  all 
question. 

Creation  everywhere  evinces  unity  of  design,  —  Is  the  universe, 
then,  one  of  these  virtual  wholes  ?  Does  it  everywhere  evince 
unity  of  design,  and  show  such  a  correlation  of  parts,  that  the 
whole  may  properly  be  considered  as  an  organism,  or  as  the 
result  of  the  parts,  and  not  merely  as  their  aggregate  ?  To  give 
all  the  evidence  for  the  affirmative  of  this  question,  would  require 


404  THE    UNITY    OF    GOD. 

an  enumeration  of  particulars  too  copious  for  your  time  and 
patience ;  but  enough  may  be  adduced  here  to  leave  no  doubt 
upon  the  subject. 

The  universe  is  composed  of  matter  and  mind,  and  it  is  in  the 
close,  but,  as  we  believe,  temporary,  union  of  these  component 
parts,  and  in  their  present  mutual  dependence  and  jitness  for 
each  other,  that  the  more  striking  part  of  the  proof  consists. 
But  we  will  look  first  at  the  material  universe  alone ;  and  in 
doing  this,  I  must  use,  for  brevity  of  speech,  the  common 
phraseology  of  physical  science,  though  with  the  protest  already 
expressed  against  the  mechanical  theory  which  it  implies.  Sup- 
ply the  correction  in  every  case,  by  substituting  for  supposed 
secondary  causes,  the  immediate  agency  of  the  Divine  mind,  and 
the  argument  becomes  all  the  stronger. 

The  general  laws  of  the  physical  universe  evince  the  unity  of 
their  cause.  —  Consider,  first,  that  the  same  physical  laws,  as 
wonderful  for  their  simplicity  as  for  the  vastness  of  their  sphere 
of  operation,  govern  the  motions  and  determine  the  state  of  all 
the  particles  and  all  the  aggregations  of  matter  which  make  up 
the  solar  and  stellar  systems.  Through  the  principles  of  inertia 
and  the  equality  of  action  and  reaction,  it  is  demonstrable,  that, 
if  1  strike  the  ground  with  a  hammer,  the  effect  produced,  small 
as  it  is,  is  propagated  beyond  the  path  of  Neptune.  It  is  the 
same  law  of  gravity  which  guides  the  falling  of  a  tear,  and  gov- 
erns the  revolutions  of  the  planets ;  which  binds  the  influences 
of  the  Pleiades,  and  loosens  the  bands  of  Orion.  The  simplicity 
of  this  law  enables  us  to  calculate  its  effects  with  so  much  pre- 
cision, that,  notwithstanding  the  erratic  path,  as  it  appears  to 
direct  observation,  which  the  planets  describe  in  our  sky,  the 
astronomer  turns  his  telescope  with  perfect  confidence  to  a  mere 
point  in  the  heavens,  where  one  of  these  bodies  will  be  found  at 
a  given  moment  a  century  hence.  It  has  been  justly  observed^, 
that,  but  for  this  marvellous  coincidence  of  observation  with  the 
calculated  results,  we  should  wholly  distrust  the  assumed  pre- 
cision and  minuteness  of  our  knowledge  of  bodies,  which  are 
seemingly  so  far  removed  from  the  sphere  of  human  agency 
and  research.     Again,  the  light  which  streams  from  these  re- 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  405 

mote  orbs,  is  in  all  respects  identical  with  that  produced  by 
artificial  means  to  illumine  our  own  dwellings ;  it  is  diffused  in 
the  same  manner,  travels  with  the  same  speed,  obeys  the  same 
laws  of  reflection  and  refraction,  and  the  experiments  made  in 
one  are  repeated  with  unerring  precision  in  the  other.  If  we 
extend  our  view  over  vast  tracts  of  time,  as  well  as  space,  the 
operations  of  nature  still  appear  uniform,  exact,  and  unchange- 
able ;  the  same  laws  hold.*  The  astronomer  calculates  and 
verifies  the  observations  made  by  the  shepherds  on  the  plains 
of  Chaldeea,  and  the  ecHpses  that  were  noted  in  China  at  the 
distant  period  when  that  empire  seems  to  have  excelled  all  other 
nations  of  the  earth  in  physical  science. 

If  we  come  down  to  the  properties  and  internal  constitution 
of  the  various  substances  with  which  we  are  surrounded,  to  the 


*  The  eyes  of  the  Trilobites  of  the  transition  rocks,  says  Dr.  Buckland, 
"  give  information  regarding  the  condition  of  the  ancient  sea  and  ancient 
atmosphere,  and  the  relation  of  both  these  media  to  light,  at  the  remote 
period  when  the  earliest  marine  animals  were  furnished  with  instruments 
of  vision,  in  which  the  minute  optical  adaptations  were  the  same  that  im- 
part the  perception  of  light  to  Crustaceans  now  living  at  the  bottom  of 
the  sea. 

"  With  respect  to  the  waters  wherein  the  Trilobites  maintained  their  ex- 
istence throughout  the  entire  period  of  the  transition  formation,  we  con- 
clude that  they  could  not  have  been  that  imaginary  turbid  and  compound 
chaotic  fluid,  from  the  precipitates  of  which  some  geologists  have  supposed 
the  materials  of  the  surface  of  the  earth  to  be  derived ;  because  the  struc- 
ture of  the  eyes  of  these  animals  is  such,  that  any  kind  of  fluid  at  the 
bottom  of  which  these  eyes  could  have  been  sufficient,  must  have  been 
pure  and  transparent  enough  to  allow  the  passage  of  light  to  organs  of 
vision,  the  nature  of  which  is  so  fully  disclosed  by  the  state  of  perfection  in 
which  they  are  preserved.  With  regard  to  the  atmosphere,  also,  we  infer 
that,  had  it  differed  materially  from  its  actual  condition,  it  might  have  so 
fur  affected  the  rays  of  light,  that  a  corresponding  difference  from  tlie  eyes 
of  existing  Crustaceans  would  have  been  found  in  the  organs  on  which  the 
impressions  of  such  rays  were  then  received. 

"  Regarding  light  itself,  also,  we  leai'n,  from  the  resemblance  of  these 
most  ancient  organizations  to  existing  eyes,  that  the  mutual  relations  of 
light  to  the  eye,  and  of  the  eye  to  light,  were  the  same  at  the  time  when 
Crustaceans,  endowed  with  the  faculty  of  vision,  were  first  placed  at  the 
bottom  of  the  primeval  seas,  as  at  the  present  moment." 


406  THE    UNITY    OF    GOD. 

rocks,  the  metals,  the  salts,  and  the  earths,  which  form  the  crust 
of  our  globe,  we  find  a  similar  unity  of  plan  and  the  same  pre- 
dominance of  a  few  fixed  laws.  "All  things  in  the  universe," 
says  Hume  himself,  the  chief  of  modern  skeptics,  "  all  things  are 
evidently  of  a  piece.  Every  thing  is  adjusted  to  every  thing. 
One  design  prevails  through  the  whole."  Cohesive  attraction 
binds  the  particles  of  all  bodies  together,  their  chemical  ele- 
ments unite  in  the  same  proportions,  and  the  numbers  which 
express  these  proportions  are  combined  in  canstant  ratios,  so 
that  the  results  of  chemical  analysis  are  now  recorded  by  a  uni- 
versally apphcable  scheme  of  algebraic  notation.  It  is  quite 
probable,  that,  before  long,  chemistry  will  attain  the  rank  of  an 
exact  science.  The  simple  bodies  retain  their  properties  all 
over  the  globe ;  one  lump  of  a  metal  or  an  earth  is  always  a 
perfect  specimen  of  the  rest,  though  found  in  opposite  hemi- 
spheres. The  specific  gravity,  determined  to  the  thousandth 
part  of  a  grain,  is  a  perfect  test  of  the  purity  of  gold,  whether  it 
is  brought  from  Peru  or  the  Ural  Mountains.  The  elements  of 
pure  water,  the  constituents  of  the  atmosphere,  are  the  same, 
and  are  combined  in  precisely  the  same  proportions,  wherever 
water  flows,  or  the  air  penetrates. 

Unity  of  plan  in  the  animal  Jcingdom.  —  The  organic  king- 
doms show  a  still  more  marvellous  unity  of  plan,  and  a  nicer 
adaptation  to  each  other  and  to  the  inorganic  world.  The 
chemistry  here  is  more  intricate,  but  it  is  still  uniform ;  and  its 
complexity  arises  from  the  great  variety  of  purposes  which 
organism  is  designed  to  answer,  and  from  the  numberless  rela- 
tions which  bind  each  to  each  throughout  the  animal  and  vege- 
table creations.*  Remembering  how  the  same  general  type  of 
the  skeleton  is  preserved  throughout   the  vertebrate   branch, 

*  "  It  was  a  great  discovery  in  physiology,  when  it  was  ascertained  that 
all  vertebrata,  that  fishes,  as  well  as  reptiles,  as  well  as  birds,  as  well  as 
mammalia,  arose  from  eggs,  which  have  one  and  the  same  uniform  struc- 
ture in  the  beginning,  and  proceed  to  produce  animals,  as  widely  different 
as  they  are  in  their  full-grown  state,  simply  by  successive  gradual  meta- 
morphoses ;  and  these  metamorphoses  upon  one  and  the  same  plan,  accord- 
ing to  one  and  the  same  general  process."  — Agassiz. 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  407 

amidst  numberless  modifications  of  the  size  and  shape  of  all  its 
parts,  so  that  each  animal  might  be  fitted  for  the  exigencies  of 
its  peculiar  situation  and  the  part  it  has  to  play,  —  believe,  if 
you  can,  that  one  mind  did  not  preside  over  the  formation  of  all 
the  species,  and  adapt  each  to  its  place  in  one  vast  system. 
The  laws  of  birth,  growth,  and  reproduction  have  the  same 
general  character  for  all,  and  varieties  suited  to  each ;  the  pro- 
gressive development  of  creatures  that  are  so  low  down  in  the 
scale  even  as  the  mollusca,  throws  light  upon  the  embryotic 
changes  of  the  most  perfect  animal  organism.*  If  we  go  back 
to  the  extinct  races  of  the  oldest  geological  periods,  so  far  from 
finding  that  another  general  scheme  then  prevailed,  we  seem  to 
witness  the  historical  development  of  one  and  the  same  plan ; 
the  fossil  varieties  fill  up  some  gaps  that  appear  in  the  scale  as 
it  exists  at  present,  and  the  order  in  which  the  several  new  cre- 
ations appeared,  shows  with  what  facility  the  plan  was  adapted 
to  the  greatest  variety  of  circumstances.  Indeed,  the  whole 
science  of  zoology,  with  the  light  that  it  has  received  from  re- 
cent investigations,  is  a  most  instructive  commentary  upon  the 
doctrine  of  the  unity  of  God. 

Animals  and  vegetables  and  the  atmosphere  work  together  in, 
one  system,  —  Extending  our  view  to  the  vegetable  creation, 
and  to  the  relations  which  connect  it  with  the  animal  kingdom, 


*  "  To  study  the  phenomena  manifested  by  a  single  individual,  would 
give  us  an  idea  of  the  organic  world  as  imperfect  as  that  which  an  astron- 
omer would  obtain  of  the  sidereal  system,  by  studying  the  motions  and 
phenomena  of  a  single  planet.  It  is  not  true  that  there  exists,  strictly 
speaking,  a  physiology,  as  of  man,  peculiar  to  a  single  being.  Examine 
any  organ,  and  the  processes  of  which  it  is  the  seat,  in  a  given  animal ;  then 
refer  to  any  other  being  in  the  animal  series,  and  you  will  generally  find 
the  organ  and  its  processes  repeated.  Examine  the  process  of  respiration, 
as  it  exists  in  men  and  in  those  animals  nearly  allied  to  him,  and  it  will  be 
seen,  that,  so  far  as  regards  the  essential  process,  it  is  one  and  the  same  in 
all,  though  the  manner  in  which  it  is  carried  out  may  vary  to  a  consider- 
able degree  in  the  different  races.  By  the  researches  of  the  comparative 
physiologist,  it  has  been  shown  that  the  animal  kingdom  is  subdivided  into 
certain  great  groups,  and  that  all  the  members  of  those  groups  are  con- 
structed on  one  and  the  same  plan."  —  Jeffries  Wyman. 


408  THE   UNITY    OF    GOD. 

we  obtain  fresh  and  beautiful  illustrations  of  the  same  great 
truth.  The  two  kingdoms  are  essential  to  each  other's  existence, 
both  entering  into  the  circuit  through  which  inorganic  matter 
passes,  sustaining  organic  life  on  its  way,  and  then  returning  to 
its  primitive  or  elementary  state.  "  While  animals,"  says  the 
most  eminent  botanist  of  this  country,  Dr.  A.  Gray,  "  consume 
the  oxygen  of  the  air,  and  give  back  carbonic  acid,  which  is  in- 
jurious to  their  life,  this  carbonic  acid  is  the  principal  element 
of  the  food  of  vegetables,  is  consumed  and  decomposed  by  them, 
and  its  oxygen  restored  for  the  use  of  animals.  Henoe  the  per- 
fect adaptation  of  the  two  great  kingdoms  of  living  beings  to 
each  other ;  —  each  removing  from  the  atmosphere  what  would 
be  noxious  to  the  other ;  —  each  yielding  to  the  atmosphere 
what  is  essential  to  the  continual  existence  of  the  other."  And 
further,  —  "  Animals  consume  what  vegetables  produce.  They 
themselves  produce  nothing  directly  from  the  mineral  world. 
The  herbiverous  animals  take  from  veoretables  the  oro^anized 
matter  which  they  have  produced ;  —  a  part  of  it  they  consume, 
and  in  respiration  restore  the  materials  to  the  atmosphere,  from 
which  plants  derived  them,  in  the  very  form  in  which  they  were 
taken,  namely,  as  carbonic  acid  and  water.  The  portion  they 
accumulate  in  their  tissues  constitutes  the  food  of  carnivorous 
animals,  who  consume  and  return  to  the  air  the  greater  part 
during  life,  and  the  remainder  in  decay,  after  death.  The  at- 
mosphere, therefore,  out  of  which  plants  create  nourishment, 
and  to  which  animals,  as  they  consume,  return  it,  forms  the  nec- 
essary link  between  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms,  and 
thus  completes  the  great  cycle  of  organic  existence.  Organized 
matter  passes  through  various  stages  in  vegetables,  is  raised  to 
higher  conditions  in  the  herbiverous  animals,  undergoes  its  final 
transformations  in  the  carnivorous  animals.  Portions  are  con- 
sumed at  every  stage,  and,  leaving  the  ascending  current,  fall 
back  to  the  mineral  kingdom,  to  which  the  whole,  having  accom- 
plished its  revolutions,  finally  returns." 

We  are  accustomed  to  consider  the  unity  of  organization  of 
a  single  plant  or  animal,  —  to  trace  the  relation,  for  instance, 
of  digestion  to  the  supply  of  blood  or  nutritive  fluid,  or  respira- 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  409 

tion  to  the  purifying  of  this  fluid,  and  of  its  circulation  to  the 
nutrition  of  every  part  of  the  body,  as  well  as  the  fitness  of  the 
vessels,  conduits,  and  other  means  provided  for  carrying  on  this 
round  of  operations,  the  growth  and  continued  existence  of  one 
particular  organism  being  the  combined  result.  But  does  not 
this  grand  circuit  of  animate  and  inanimate  nature,  this  mutual 
dependence  of  the  atmosphere,  in  regard  to  its  purity,  ^nd  of 
all  animal  and  vegetable  life,  point  out  with  equal  clearness  the 
unity  of  organization  of  the  universe,  and  cause  us  to  regard  the 
whole  as  one  vast  apparatus,  from  which  no  single  organ  or 
portion  could  be  taken  away  without  vitiating  the  result,  and 
reducing  the  entire  fabric  to  a  chaos  ? 

"  All  ai-e  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole, 
Whose  body  nature  is,  and  God  the  soul." 

The  progress  of  science  constantly  Jinds  new  proofs  of  unity 
of  design,  —  Consider,  also,  that  the  discovery  or  generalization 
of  these  facts,  which  throw  so  much  light  upon  the  unity  of  plan 
in  the  creation,  is  among  the  latest  triumphs  of  science ;  —  and 
what  may  we  not  expect  from  the  future  progress  of  discovery, 
as  tending  to  reveal  to  our  eyes  in  full,  what  as  yet  we  see  but 
imperfectly,  that  there  is  not  a  stone  or  a  clod  of  earth  in  the 
crust  of  our  globe,  nor  one  of  the  shining  points  which  dot  in 
myriads  our  nightly  sky,  that  does  not  play  an  essential  part  in 
the  working  of  the  universal  organism,  the  most  intimate  rela- 
tions binding  it  alike  to  what  is  nearest  and  what  is  most  re- 
mote ?  It  was  on  some  small,  and  seemingly  irregular  and  pur- 
poseless, features  in  the  arrangement  of  the  planetary  orbits 
around  our  sun,  namely,  upon  the  eccentricities  of  those  orbits, 
that  Laplace  founded  the  sublime  calculations  which  demon- 
strated the  stability  of  the  system.  What  are  now  called  the 
"  secular  variations,"  because,  after  a  long  lapse  of  years,  they 
begin  to  retrace  their  steps,  as  it  were,  and  thus  compensate  the 
disturbance  that  had  gone  on  increasing  during  that  period, 
were  formerly  regarded  as  disturbing  causes  that  would  operate 
for  ever  in  the  same  direction,  so  that  they  were  proceeding 
slowly,  but  inevitably,  to  make  shipwreck  of  the  whole  plan. 

35 


410  THE   UNITY    OF   GOD. 

Laplace  proved  that  they  were  cycles,  and  therefore  that  they 
should  be  ranked  highest  among  those  periodic  revolutions 
which  are  so  frequent  in  the  economy  of  nature ;  instead  of 
tending  to  destroy,  they  guaranty  the  permanency  of  the  system. 
When  but  a  few  more  such  steps  have  been  taken  in  the  career 
of  discovery,  we  shall  see  unity  of  organization  in  the  universe, 
as  clearly  as  we  now  do  in  the  human  body. 

Plants  and  animals  formed  on  one  plan.  —  Coming  back,  in 
some  measure,  to  details,  it  is  remarkable  that  we  can  trace 
similarity  of  structure  and  function  in  cases  apparently  removed 
from  each  other  by  so  wide  an  interval,  that  we  should  not  have 
expected  any  resemblance  whatever,  except  from  the  general 
consideration,  that  order  and  harmony  must  characterize  all  the 
works  of  infinite  wisdom.  For  instance,  how  unhke,  at  the  first 
glance,  appear  plants  and  animals,  and  how  dissimilar  their 
offices,  though  each  kingdom,  as  we  have  seen,  is  necessary  to 
the  other,  and  the  two  play  an  equally  important  part  in  the 
accomplishment  of  the  universal  design !  Yet  it  is  not  more 
certain,  that  the  rudiments  of  the  human  skeleton,  as  they  may 
be  figuratively  called,  can  be  traced  in  the  bones  of  one  of  the 
lowest  fishes,  than  that  the  plant  is,  so  to  speak,  a  rudimentary 
animal.  The  functions  of  digestion,  assimilation,  circulation, 
nutrition,  and  respiration,  for  example,  are  common  to  the  two ; 
the  distinction  of  sex  belongs  to  both,  and  the  means  of  repro- 
duction are  strikingly  similar.  And,  generally,  the  botanist  will 
tell  you,  between  the  organs  which  serve  corresponding  pur- 
poses in  the  two  kingdoms,  very  obvious  resemblances  exist. 
Nature  seems  for  ever  at  work  upon  tlie  same  general  pattern ; 
she  is  haunted,  as  it  were,  by  one  idea  ;  and  in  out-of-the-way 
corners  of  creation,  whither  we  had  wandered  in  search  of  nov- 
elty, we  are  startled  by  the  spectral  reappearance  of  the  old 
famihar  face.* 


*  "  These  general  views,"  says  Prof.  Sedgwick,  "  help  us  also  to  explain 
and  rationalize  certain  well-known  phenomena,  such  as  abortive  or  rudi- 
mentary organs ;  [the  existence  of  the  mammary  gland  in  man,  for  exam- 
ple.   Blumenbach  says,  there  are  not  wanting  instances  in  which  milk  has 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  411 

Mr.  Stewart  speaks  of  "  the  effects  which  philosophical  habits 
and  scientific  pursuits  have  in  familiarizing  the  mind  to  the 
order  of  nature,  and  in  improving  its  penetration  and  sagacity 
in  anticipating  those  parts  of  it  which  are  yet  unknown.  A 
man  conversant  with  the  phenomena  of  physics  and  chemistry, 
is  much  more  likely  than  a  stranger  to  these  studies  to  form 
probable  conjectures  concerning  those  laws  of  nature  which  still 
remain  to  be  examined.  There  is  a  certain  style,  (if  I  may  use 
the  expression,)  in  the  operations  of  the  Great  Author  of  all 
things,  —  something  which  everywhere  announces,  amidst  a 
boundless  variety  of  detail,  an  inimitable  unity  and  harmony  of 
design,  and  in  the  perception  of  which,  what  we  commonly  call 
philosophical  sagacity  seems  chiefly  to  consist.  It  is  this  which 
bestows  an  inestimable  value  on  the  conjectures  and  queries  of 
such  a  philosopher  as  Sir  Isaac  Newton." 

Exact  balance  of  cooperating  agents.  —  I  have  but  one  other 
remark  to  make,  in  this  connection,  respecting  the  scheme  of  the 
material  universe,  —  which  is,  that  the  proportions  of  the  ani- 
mal and  vegetable  kingdoms,  and  the  constituents  of  the  atmos- 
phere to  each  other,  were  not  always  the  same  as  they  exist  at 
present.  There  was  a  time,  so  geology  tells  us,  when  the  air 
was  greatly  overcharged  with  carbonic  acid,  and  thus  unfitted 
for  the  support  of  animal  life.  Accordingly,  plants  were  then 
almost  the  sole  representatives  of  organic  nature,  and  their  con- 
tinuous operation  through  many  ages  gradually  purified  the  at- 
mosphere till  animals  could  live  in  it.  Animals  were  then 
introduced,  by  their  consumption  of  oxygen,  and  by  rendering 
it  back  united  with  carbon,  to  serve  as  an  offset  fo^j  the  action 


been  secreted  from  the  breasts  of  men  and  other  male  animals.]  These 
organs  may  have  a  muscular  use  which,  in  some  cases,  we  do  not  compre- 
hend. However  this  may  be,  they  form  a  part,  and  an  essential  part,  of 
a  great  scheme ;  and  they  help  us  to  understand  the  pattern  of  nature's 
workmanship.  One  use,  at  least,  they  have ;  they  tend  to  complete  the 
order  and  plan  of  nature ;  and  this,  moreover,  we  may  venture  to  affirm, 
that  the  Author  of  Nature  manifests,  in  examples  without  number,  a  love 
of  order,  and  harmony,  and  beauty,  which  is  altogether  independent  of 
our  conceptions  of  mere  vulgar  use." 


412  THE   UNITY    OF    GOD. 

of  vegetables,  and  to  prevent  the  stock  upon  which  the  latter 
live  from  being  eventually  exhausted.  ThQ  present  exact  bal- 
ance between  the  wants  and  the  products  of  the  cooperating 
agents  in  nature  is  the  result  of  one  great  scheme,  which  has 
come  gradually  to  perfection,  —  thus  leading  us  to  infer,  that  one 
mind  not  only  presides  over  the  system  now,  but  has  watched 
and  guided  it  through  the  several  stages  of  its  growth,  the  com- 
mencement of  which  dates  far  back  in  eternity. 

Unity  of  plan  in  the  relations  of  mind  to  matter.  —  If  there 
remains  comparatively  little  to  say  on  the  unity  of  plan  that  is 
evinced  in  the  constitution  of  mind,  and  in  the  adaptation  of  the 
intellectual  and  moral  to  the  material  universe,  it  is  because 
most  of  the  important  facts  have  been  already  mentioned  in 
connection  with  other  parts  of  our  subject.  Thus,  I  have  dwelt 
at  length  upon  the  general  laws  which  uphold  and  constitute 
external  nature,  considered  as  the  necessary  means  through 
which  reason  and  freewill  are  enabled  to  rival  the  works  of  in- 
stinct. Looking  at  the  body,  also,  in  its  true  light,  as  really 
external  and  foreign  to  the  mind  which  inhabits  it  for  a  season, 
the  laws  of  bodily  health  and  disease,  as  formerly  remarked,  are 
among  the  strongest  safeguards  of  morals.  The  organs  of  sense 
form  the  direct  avenues  of  communication  between  the  outer  and 
the  inner  world,  and  in  their  curious  and  delicate  structure  are 
found  the  most  striking  tokens  of  infinite  wisdom,  adapting  the 
same  general  plan  to  a  great  variety  of  purposes  and  circum- 
stances. Man  does  not  find  himself  a  stranger  upon  the  earth, 
though  he  is  the  latest  comer ;  he  enters  a  dwelling  fitted  and 
garnished  ^r  his  reception,  and  yet  taxing  his  faculties  to  the 
utmost,  before  he  can  ascertain  and  apply  to  use  all  its  accom- 
modations and  contrivances.  Or  rather,  to  change  the  figure, 
he  is  admitted  to  a  school,  where  the  means  and  the  stimuli  of 
education  are  furnished  in  great  abundance,  together  with  a 
bountiful  provision  for  his  mere  enjoyment. 

Cooperation  of  the  eye  and  the  mind  in  vision.  —  Even  his 
senses  must  be  educated  before  they  can  do  their  appropriate 
work.  His  first  and  most  important  step  in  knowledge,  as  has 
been  before  observed,  is  to  learn  to  see.     The  eye  is  sensible  to 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  413 

the  impulse  of  light,  and  the  complex  structure  of  this  organ  is 
adapted  with  the  utmost  nicety  to  the  laws  of  refraction.  Tims 
far,  however,  provision  is  made  only  for  painting  on  the  retina 
a  very  accurate  picture,  though  on  a  much  reduced  scale,  of 
external  objects.  The  mind  now  must  do  its  part  in  projecting 
off  this  picture,  as  it  were,  in  referring  these  impressions  to 
their  outward  cause,  and  in  making  the  mere  bodily  sensation  to 
be  the  type  and  material  of  knowledge,  —  the  basis  of  percep- 
tion of  surrounding  things.  The  sensation  alone  can  teach  us 
nothing  as  to  the  distance,  magnitude,  or  even  the  externality 
of  material  objects ;  nor  does  instinct,  as  in  the  case  of  animals, 
supply  the  deficiency.  Slowly  the  mind  learns  to  refer  the  sign 
to  the  thing  signified,  and  to  spell  out  the  world  of  knowledge 
which  at  first  lies  hidden  in  the  hieroglyphic  language  of  mere 
visual  impressions.  And  when  the  organ  is  fully  educated,  how 
quick  and  various  is  the  information  that  it  gives !  The  travel- 
ler arrives  at  the  crest  of  a  hill,  which  commands  a  full  prospect 
of  a  renowned  city  that  he  had  never  before  seen,  together  with 
a  long  reach  of  the  beautiful  valley  in  which  it  lies.  In  a  mo- 
ment, his  eye  takes  in  the  extended  and  widely  diversified 
scene,  —  the  maze  of  houses  and  streets,  the  projecting  spires 
and  towers,  the  swelling  dome  of  the  cathedral,  the  variegated 
tints  of  roofs  and  walls,  the  tufted  tops  of  trees  rising  here  and 
there  at  iiTCgular  intervals,  the  river  winding  through  the  vale ; 
and  a  tolerably  correct  estimate  of  the  size,  distance,  and  rela- 
tive position  of  these  objects  is  so  quickly  formed,  that  it  seems 
a  part  of  the  picture.  It  is  marvellous  that  so  great  an  acces- 
sion to  our  knowledg-e,  so  larsre  a  stock  of  new  and  interestinoj 
perceptions,  should  be  gained  in  an  instant  of  time. 

The  senses  proportioned  to  the  wants  and  occasions  of  man. — 
Here,  then,  in  the  most  familiar  of  all  cases,  body  and  mind 
cooperate  so  perfectly,  and  the  adaptation  of  both  to  the  wants 
of  man,  considered  as  an  inhabitant  of  the  material  universe,  is 
so  complete,  that  we  cannot  avoid  referring  all  the  parts  of  the 
complex  contrivance  to  one  Author.  Our  admiration  of  the 
design  is  enhanced  when  we  reflect,  that  the  organ  of  sight  is 
entu'ely  formed   at   a   period  when  no   communication   exists 

35* 


414  THE    UNITY    OF    GOD. 

between  it  and  that  element  to  which  every  portion  of  it  has  so 
manifest  a  reference.  The  scheme  of  education,  of  self-im- 
provement, with  its  obvious  moral  bearings,  which  we  have  seen 
to  be  the  chief  purpose  of  our  being  here  below,  is  here  visibly 
kept  in  view  in  the  earliest  physical  arrangements  that  are  made 
for  our  security  and  happiness  upon  earth.  In  other  respects, 
the  adaptation  of  the  organ  to  man's  physical  wants,  and  to  the 
formation  of  liis  character,  is  hardly  less  remarkable.  "  If,  by 
the  help  of  microscopical  eyes,"  says  Locke,  "a  man  should 
penetrate  further  than  ordinary  into  the  secret  composition  and 
radical  texture  of  bodies,  he  would  not  make  any  great  advan- 
tage by  the  change,  if  such  an  acute  sight  would  not  serve  to 
conduct  him  to  the  market  and  exchange,  if  he  could  not  see 
things  he  was  to  avoid  at  a  convenient  distance,  or  distinguish 
things  he  had  to  do  with,  by  those  sensible  qualities  others  do. 
He  that  was  sharp-sighted  enough  to  see  the  configuration  of 
the  minute  particles  of  the  spring  of  a  clock,  and  observe  on 
what  peculiar  structure  and  impulse  its  elastic  motion  depends, 
would  no  doubt  discover  something  very  admirable ;  but  if  eyes 
so  framed  could  not  view  at  once  the  hand  and  the  characters 
of  the  hour-plate,  and  thereby  discover  at  a  distance  what 
o'clock  it  was,  their  owner  could  not  be  much  benefited  by  that 
acuteness,  which,  whilst  it  discovered  the  secret  contrivance  of 
the  parts  of  the  machine,  made  him  lose  its  use." 

Our  mental  constitution  fitted  to  the  material  universe,  — 
It  would  be  easy  to  follow  out  this  line  of  argument  in  regard 
to  the  other  senses,  and  the  several  remaining  points  in  the 
physical  organization  of  man,  and  show  how  he  is  fitted  in  all 
respects  to  the  scale  of  the  world  in  which  he  dwells,  and  to  the 
objects  by  which  he  is  surrounded.  "  No  other  cause,"  says  an 
eminent  naturalist,  "  can  be  assigned  why  a  man  was  not  made 
five  or  ten  times  bigger,  but  his  relation  to  the  rest  of  the  uni- 
verse." The  law  of  the  association  of  ideas,  which  is  the  regu- 
lative principle  of  memory,  corresponds  so  exactly  with  the  uni- 
form succession  of  cause  and  effect,  which  is  the  regidative  prin- 
ciple of  the  universe,  that  no  one  can  doubt  that  the  one  was 
specially  designed  to  be  the  complement  of  the  otiier.     The 


THE    UNITY    OF    GOD.  415 

child  associates  the  idea  of  burning  with  that  of  the  fire,  and 
every  pleasant  or  painful  feeling  reminds  him  of  the  occasion 
when  it  was  first  excited ;  on  these  connections  of  thought,  the 
whole  value  of  experience  depends.  If  memory  acted  disor- 
derly, the  effect,  for  all  practical  purposes,  would  be  the  same 
as  if  events  succeeded  each  other  at  random,  and  not  in  an 
unchangeable  sequence.  Before  the  past  can  be  a  safe  guide  as 
to  the  future,  it  is  necessary,  not  only  that  the  same  effect  should 
always  follow  the  same  cause,  but  also  that  the  sight  of  the  cause 
should  always  and  instantly  remind  us  of  what  is  sure  to  suc- 
ceed. In  this  respect,  as  in  many  others,  the  mind  is  a  micro- 
cosm ;  it  mirrors  to  us  those  aspects  of  external  nature  which 
ai'e  most  necessary  to  be  presented  for  the  safety  of  the  individ- 
ual.    The  law  of  causation  is  also  the  law  of  memory.* 

Uniformity  of  human  nature.  —  A  still  more  pleasing  proof 
of  uniformity  of  design  may  be  found  in  the  preservation  of 
the  common  type  of  humanity  among  all  nations,  and  in  all 
ages  of  the  world.  Make  out  the  difference  as  wide  as  you 
can  between  the  savage  and  the  civilized  man,  yet  it  is  as 
nothing  when  compared  with  the  interval  which  lies  between 
the  savas^e  and  the  brute.  This  interval  is  constant.  Exhaust 
all   the   means   and   artifices   of  instruction  upon  one  of  the 


*  The  uniformity  in  the  instincts  of  brutes,  moreover,  as  Dugald  Stewart 
has  observed,  presupposes  a  corresponding  regularity  in  the  phenomena  of 
the  material  universe  ;  "  insomuch  that,  if  the  established  order  of  the 
material  world  were  to  be  essentially  disturbed,  (the  instincts  of  the  brutes 
remaining  the  same,)  all  their  various  tribes  would  inevitably  perish.  The 
uniformity  of  animal  instinct,  therefore,  bears  a  reference  to  the  constancy 
and  immutability  of  physical  laws,  not  less  manifest  than  that  of  the  fin 
of  the  fish  to  the  properties  of  water,  or  of  the  wing  of  the  bird  to  those  of 
the  atmosphere."  *'  Through  this  uniformity  in  their  instincts,  also,  man 
can  better  maintain  his  empire  over  them,  and  employ  them  to  greater  ad- 
vantage as  means  or  instruments  for  accomplishing  his  purposes.  The 
instincts,  as  we  have  seen,  allow  some  latitude  of  action,  so  that  the  brutes 
can  accommodate  themselves,  in  a  small  degree,  to  the  ordinary  vicissi- 
tudes of  their  condition  ;  and  thus  they  are  incomparably  more  serviceable 
to  man  than  they  would  have  been,  if,  like  brute  matter,  they  were  always 
subjected  to  regular  and  assignable  causes." 


416  THE    UNITY    OF    GOD. 

lower  animals,  and  he  never  even  approaches  the  boundary 
line  of  humanity.  On  the  other  hand,  all  projects  for  re- 
claiming the  criminal  or  the  savage,  go  upon  the  supposition 
that  he  is  a  human  being,  like  ourselves,  —  that  he  is  moved 
by  the  same  desires,  agitated  by  the  same  passions,  and  has 
faculties  which,  though  latent  now,  are  capable  of  as  liigh  de- 
velopment. We  instinctively  recognize  this  common  human- 
ity, and  act  upon  it ;  the  taking  of  human  life  is  everywhere 
viewed  as  a  grave  and  awful  deed,  to  be  justified  only  by 
pressing  necessity ;  while  mere  animal  existence  is  sacrificed 
without  a  touch  of  remorse.  Persons  of  delicate  feelings,  in- 
deed, may  shrink  from  the  work ;  but  their  repugnance  is 
founded  mainly  on  an  amiable  illusion,  which  invests  the  dumb 
creature  —  a  favorite  domestic  animal,  perhaps  —  with  some  of 
the  attributes  of  humanity.  The  individuals  who  make  up  the 
race  are  constantly  changing ;  one  generation  succeeds  another, 
and,  at  the  close  of  a  century,  hardly  one  human  being  survives 
who  was  alive  at  its  commencement.  But  the  unchanging 
characteristics,  the  type,  of  the  species,  survive  all  mutations, 
and  the  subject  of  history  is  still  the  same.  In  every  age  and 
every  country,  the  great  features  of  humanity  appear  as  stead- 
fast as  if  they  were  engraved  in  marble.  "  It  is  this,"  says  an 
eminent  writer,  "  which  gives  the  great  charm  to  what  we  call 
nature  in  epic  and  dramatic  compositions ;  when  the  poet  speaks 
a  language  to  which  every  heart  is  an  echo,  and  which,  amidst 
all  the  effects  of  education  and  fashion  in  modifying  and  dis- 
guising the  principles  of  our  constitution,  reminds  all  the 
various  classes  of  readers  or  spectators  of  the  existence  of  those 
moral  ties  which  unite  us  to  each  other  and  to  our  common 
Parent." 

Result  of  the  discussion.  —  The  facts  upon  which  I  have 
dwelt  in  this  chapter  are  sufiiciently  familiar ;  and  it  is  true  of 
all  of  them,  that  they  suggest,  rather  than  prove,  the  great  doc- 
trine of  the  unity  of  God.  The  truth  of  this  doctrine  is  suflfi- 
ciently  estabhshed,  as  was  remarked  in  the  outset,  by  the  ab- 
sence of  all  evidence  to  the  contrary.  We  have  abundant 
testimony  that  one  GoS  exists ;  we  have  not  even  an  intimation 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  417 

that  there  is  more  than  one ;  and  this  is  enough.  I  have  souo-ht 
to  show,  however,  that  this  truth,  like  the  other  doctrines  of 
natural  theology,  is  continually  suggested  to  us  by  a  study  of 
the  universe  in  which  we  live,  and  of  which  we  form  a  part. 
In  the  unity  of  our  own  life  and  consciousness,  we  find  reflected 
the  miity  of  Him  from  whom  we  derived  our  being.  "  Every 
man,  a  single,  active,  conscious  self,  is  the  image  of  his  Maker. 
There  is  in  him  one  undivided  animating  principle,  which,  in  its 
perceptions  and  operations,  runs  through  the  whole  system  of 
matter  that  it  inhabits  ;  it  perceives  for  the  most  distant  parts 
of  the  body ;  it  cares  for  all  and  governs  all ;  —  thus  leading  us, 
by  analogy,  to  form  an  idea  of  the  one  great  quickening  Spirit 
which  presides  over  the  whole  frame  of  nature,  the  spring  of  all 
motion  and  operation  in  it,  understanding  and  active  in  all  parts 
of  the  universe,  —  not  as  its  soul,  indeed,  but  as  its  Lord,  —  by 
whose  vital  directing  influence  it  is,  though  so  vast  a  bulk  and 
consisting  of  so  many  parts,  united  into  one  regular  fabric." 


CHAPTER     IX. 

THE     IMMORTALITY     OF     THE     SOUL     CANNOT     BE     PROVED 
WITHOUT    THE    AID    OF   REVELATION. 

Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  Polytheism,  it  was  remarked 
in  the  last  chapter,  is  the  religion  of  a  barbarous  age,  and  of  the 
uncultivated  understanding.  It  is  the  natural  product  of  the 
religious  sentiment  before  the  reasoning  power  is  developed,  or 
the  mind  informed  by  reflection  and  careful  study  of  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  physical  and  moral  universe.  I  do  not  say  that 
polytheism  is  a  natural  form  of  religion,  because  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  barbarism  and  ignorance  are  natural  to  man.     The 


418  THE   IMMORTALITY    OP   THE    SOUL. 

great  purpose  of  our  being,  as  I  have  attempted  to  show,  is  self- 
improvement  in  the  largest  sense,  —  is  moral,  intellectual,  and 
religious  progress  achieved  by  our  own  efforts ;  and  we  are  in 
our  natural  condition  only  when  we  are  active  in  that  work. 
Barbarism  is  no  otherwise  natural  to  the  human  race  than  in- 
fancy is  ;  it  is  a  point  of  departure,  a  commencement  of  growth. 
The  religious  sentiment  of  an  uncivilized  people  first  manifests 
itself  in  idolatry,  —  that  is,  in  a  worship  of  false  gods,  or  a  sys- 
tem of  polytheism.  History  and  the  reports  of  travellers  inform 
us,  that  this  is  the  universal  faith  of  savage  tribes.  A  few 
minds,  far  in  advance  of  the  others  in  refinement  and  habits  of 
reflection,  may  throw  off  this  belief  of  the  populace ;  but  they 
usually  take  refuge  from  it  in  general  skepticism  or  fanciful 
speculation,  rather  than  m  pure  theism.  It  is  of  no  more  use, 
then,  to  disprove  polytheism  than  to  argue  against  barbarism ; 
that  cannot  be  disproved  which  does  not  rest  upon  argument  or 
conviction,  and  which  is  not  so  much  an  opinion  or  belief,  as  a 
popular  delusion,  the  origin  or  natural  history  of  which  is  dis- 
tinctly traceable. 

There  is  no  need,  then,  I  remarked,  to  prove  the  unity  of  the 
Deity,  because  nothing  can  be  alleged  against  it ;  and  having 
found  one  cause  that  accounts  for  all  the  phenomena,  it  is  a 
wholly  gratuitous  hypothesis  to  suppose  that  there  are  other 
causes.  Still,  a  study  of  God's  works  in  various  ways  indicates 
or  suggests  the  unity  of  their  Author,  and  I  briefly  reviewed 
some  of  these  indications.  The  universe,  I  endeavored  to  show, 
is  an  organism,  all  its  parts  being  essential  to  the  perfection  of 
the  whole.  The  same  laws  prevail  throughout  its  immeasu- 
rable extent,  governing  alike  the  least  events  and  the  greatest. 
Light,  gravitation,  electricity,  chemical  affinity,  and  the  like,  are 
universally  operating  agents,  that  bind  all  the  parts  of  the  vast 
system  together.  Organized  life,  whether  animal  or  vegetable, 
is  cast  in  the  same  general  mould,  the  great  features  of  one  plan 
being  preserved  throughout,  though  with  numberless  modifica- 
tions to  adapt  it  to  particular  cases.  The  boundary  lines  of  the 
species  are  immovable,  the  type  of  each  race  being  preserved 
through  countless  generations.     Pj|^ts  and  animals  resemble 


THE   IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  419 

•Hicli  other  in  their  organs  and  functions,  and,  in  connection 
with  the  atmosphere,  form  a  great  circuit  through  which  matter 
is  continually  passing,  alternately  in  an  organic  and  an  inorganic 
state.  All  these  physical  laws  and  agencies  can  be  traced  up 
to  their  ultimate  purpose,  in  the  education  of  mind  and  the  for- 
mation of  character  ;  thus  the  universe  of  matter  and  mind  con- 
stitutes one  whole,  all  the  parts  working  to  one  great  end,  so 
that  we  are  unavoidably  guided  to  the  conclusion,  that  it  has  but 
one  Author,  Designer,  and  Sovereign. 

The  proof  of  the  other  attributes  of  God,  to  the  full  extent 
that  is  needed  for  religious  faith  and  practice,  follows  immedi- 
ately from  the  doctrines  that  have  already  been  established. 
He  is  omnipresent  and  omniscient,  who  not  only  designed  and 
created,  but  directs  and  governs,  all.  His  power  and  wisdom 
are  commensurate  with  his  works ;  and  as  those  works  consti- 
tute but  one  system,  and  are  directed  to  one  end,  every  portion 
of  it,  however  minute,  is  essential  to  its  perfection  and  con- 
tinuance, and  therefore  cannot  have  escaped  his  oversight  and 
control.  The  sphere  of  his  existence  is  certainly  coextensive 
with  the  sphere  of  his  operation ;  and  this,  in  our  ignorance  of 
the  true  relation  of  pure  mind  to  space,  is  the  only  conception 
that  we  can  form  of  universal  presence.  Whether  this  ubiquity, 
in  the  language  of  the  schools,  be  virtual  or  essential,  those  can 
judge  who  can  best  determine  whether  the  human  agent,  the 
indivisible  unit  of  personahty,  is  directly  or  mediately  present 
through  the  whole  of  the  complex  structure  of  bones  and  mus- 
cles which  it  inhabits,  and  with  every  portion  of  which  it  cer- 
tainly exists  in  intimate  union.  The  question  is  one  purely  of 
curiosity  or  mere  speculation ;  the  attribute  is  made  known  to 
us  as  real  to  the  full  extent  to  which  we  are  able  to  form  a  con- 
ception of  it.  There  is  little  use  in  being  able  to  demonstrate 
the  reality  of  what  is  inconceivable. 

The  duration  of  the  Deity  is  infinite,  since  the  argument 
adopted  does  not  stop  short  of  the  First  Cause,  and  that  which 
is  uncaused  must  have  existed  from  everlasting.  Moreover, 
that  which  is  ingenerable  must  also  be  incorruptible ;  for  there 
cannot  have  been  originally  any  cause  of  dissolution  from  with  • 


420  THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL. 

out,  and  any  inherent  principles  of  decay  and  ruin  must  have 
manifested  themselves  during  an  infinite  series  of  years.  If 
they  have  not  done  so  in  the  infinite  duration  that  is  past,  it  is 
a  proof  that  they  do  not  exist,  and  that  there  are  none  to  operate 
in  all  future  time.  Again,  as  the  agency  of  the  Supreme  Being 
throughout  his  physical  creation  is  immediate,  his  moral  govern- 
ment is  also  immediate.  The  whole  series  of  arrangements  and 
events  by  which  his  law  is  made  known  to  man,  and  is  upheld 
by  the  ordinary  course  of  human  affairs,  is  the  direct  conse- 
quence of  his  presence  and  action.  The  uniformity  of  this 
action  is  a  proof  of  his  wisdom  and  the  unchangeable  character 
of  liis  purposes  ;  but  it  is  no  proof  that  his  government  is 
exerted  through  agencies  or  means  which  are  left  to  operate  of 
themselves,  without  his  constant  supervision  and  power.  The 
complete  recognition  of  this  great  truth,  the  immediate  and  uni- 
versal government  of  God,  is  the  vital  principle  of  all  religion, 
the  sustaining  belief  without  which  true  piety  cannot  exist. 

The  infinity  of  the  Divine  Attributes  considered.  —  I  am 
aware  of  the  common  objection  to  the  reasoning  which  has  here 
been  pursued,  that  human  experience,  arguing  from  a  limited 
number  of  eflfects,  can  only  establish  the  existence  of  a  cause 
proportionate  to  them,  —  or  that  the  infinite  power  and  wisdom 
of  the  Deity  cannot  be  inferred  directly  from  the  finite  evi- 
dences, which  alone  are  subject  to  our  observation.  The  im- 
portance of  this  objection  will  depend  upon  the  meaning  we 
attach  to  the  word  infinite.  It  is  commonly  said  to  imply,  in 
regard  to  the  Deity,  not  merely  that  his  power  and  wisdom  are 
"  beyond  all  comparison  greater  than  any  such  quaUties  pos- 
sessed by  ourselves,"  but  that  these  attributes  exist  "  in  such  a 
degree,  that  any  extent  whatever  of  them  being  either  presented 
to  our  observation  or  conceived  by  our  imagination,  the  Deity 
possesses  them  in  a  still  greater  degree,  —  a  degree  to  which 
our  conception  can  affix  no  bounds."  Now,  of  course,  we  cannot 
demonstrate  a  fact  which  is  inconceivable,  any  more  than  we 
can  prove  a  proposition  which  is  unintelligible ;  so  far  as  the 
infinity  of  God  cannot  be  comprehended  or  understood  by  the 
human  mind,  so  far  is  it  removed  from  the  sphere  of  all  argu- 


THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL.  421 

ment.  Our  only  understanding  of  an  injinite  quality  is  that  of 
one  which  has  no  limits  or  restraint,  —  nothing  to  prevent  it  from 
existing  to  an  indefinite  extent  or  perfection.  In  this  sense,  the 
infinity  of  the  Divine  attributes  does  admit  of  full  proof.  The 
universe,  indeed,  is  finite,  in  respect  both  to  space  and  time ;  but 
it  comprehends  all  that  is,  its  Creator  and  Ruler  alone  excepted. 
The  universe,  then,  being  subject  to  him,  as  his  creature  or  the 
work  of  his  hands,  there  is  nothing  beyond  it  to  limit  his  per- 
fections ;  no  restraint,  no  bound,  therefore,  is  possible.  Or  the 
same  reasoning  may  be  proposed  in  another  form :  —  from  the 
unity  and  infinite  duration  of  the  Supreme  Being,  it  follows, 
that  a  time  must  have  been  when  he  was  literally  all  in  all ; 
every  thing  that  now  exists  is  derived  from  him,  or  was  made 
by  him,  and  he  must  have  existed  before  any  thing  was  made. 
Then  he  must  have  been  infinite,  as  nothing  existed  to  set 
bounds  to  his  attributes  ;  and  what  has  been  created  since  cannot 
limit  them,  as  otherwise  the  creature  would  be  more  perfect 
than  the  Creator. 

What  doctrines  properly  belong  to  Natural  Religion.  —  I  have 
now  finished  all  that  it  seems  appropriate  on  the  present  occasion 
to  say  respecting  those  doctrines  of  Natural  Religion  which  rest 
upon  full  and  satisfactory  evidence,  and  so  cannot  be  called  in 
question  without  impeaching  the  validity  of  the  ordinary  laws 
of  behef,  and  denying  the  capacity  of  man  to  obtain  a  knowl- 
edge of  any  facts  that  lie  beyond  the  immediate  cognizance  of 
the  senses.  Many  will  think  that  I  have  attempted  both  too 
much  and  too  little ;  —  too  much,  because  I  have  tried  to  prove, 
from  the  light  of  reason  and  nature  alone,  that  the  moral  and 
physical  government  of  the  Deity  is  immediate  and  incessayit^ 
every  event,  even  the  minutest,  being  directly  caused  by  him 
with  a  view  to  the  moral  and  religious  improvement  of  man  ; 
and  too  little,  because  I  have  omitted  all  argument  for  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  and  have  not  considered  it  necessary,  in 
order  to  vindicate  the  justice  and  goodness  of  God,  to  represent 
our  present  existence  only  as  a  preparation  for  a  life  beyond  the 
grave,  or  to  maintain  that  the  scheme  of  Providence  which  is 
now  visible  to  us,  is  but  a  faint  and  imperfect  image  of  a  more 

36 


422  THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL. 

glorious  one,  which  is  to  be  unfolded  in  some  subsequent  stage 
of  our  being.  As  to  the  former  objection,  I  need  not  recapitu- 
late the  argument  that  has  been  laid  before  you,  and  which  is 
satisfactory  to  my  own  mind,  in  favor  of  the  immediate  agency 
and  perfect  moral  government  of  God.  As  to  the  latter,  I  hold 
that  the.  doctrine  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  cannot  he  proved 
from  the  light  of  nature^  —  that  there  is,  indeed,  no  presumption 
against  it,  but  nothing  conclusive  or  reasonably  satisfactory  in  its 
favor,  —  that  men  never  have  attained  to  a  full  belief  in  it  ex- 
cept by  direct  aid  from  on  high,  —  and  that  all  proper  faith  in 
the  doctrine  rests  upon  revelation  alone. 

Insufficiency  of  the  argument  from  the  light  of  nature  illus- 
trated. —  The  only  evidence  of  a  future  life  which  the  unassisted 
reason  can  furnish,  is  of  the  same  kind,  and  has  about  equal 
force,  with  the  argument  that  is  commonly  offered,  I  will  not  say 
to  prove,  but  to  show  that  it  is  not  unlikely,  that  the  other 
planets  and  satellites  of  our  system  are  tenanted  by  human 
beings  like  ourselves.  Certainly  we  cannot  disprove  this  hy- 
pothesis, and  I  do  not  think  that  there  is  any  strong  presumption 
against  it.  Why  should  the  third  attendant  orb,  counting  from 
our  sun,  be  fully  stocked  with  animal  and  vegetable  life,  while 
the  second  and  the  fourth  are  left  desolate,  answering  no  other 
purpose  known  to  us  but  that  of  preserving  the  balance  of  the 
system,  and  of  appearing  as  shining  points  in  our  firmament? 
The  only  rational  answer  to  this  question  is,  that  we  do  not  know. 
The  subject  Hes  as  much  beyond  the  reach  of  our  faculties,  as 
the  bodies  themselves  do  beyond  the  cognizance  of  our  senses. 
The  impossibility  of  disproving  the  conjecture  that  these  orbs 
are  inhabited,  proceeds  from  the  same  cause  as  the  difficulty  of 
substantiating  it,  —  namely,  that  we  have  no  facts  to  reason 
about,  no  knowledge  of  the  circumstances  of  the  case. 

Persons  who  are  fond  of  pure  speculation  and  hypothesis  are 
very  apt  to  confound  what  may  he,  for  aught  we  know  to  the 
contrary,  with  what  is,  so  far  as  we  are  able  positively  to  deter- 
mine it  from  our  present  means  of  observation  and  experiment ; 
they  mistake  the  possibility  that  is  measured  only  by  human 
ignorance,  for  the  probability  that  is  fairly  inferred  by  the  legiti- 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  423 

mate  exercise  of  the  understanding.  But  we  cannot  found 
knowledge  upon  ignorance ;  and  the  theorist  who  has  had  no 
experience  under  the  conditions  of  his  theory,  and  has  no 
proper  knowledge  of  the  subjects  to  which  it  relates,  necessarily 
speaks  from  ignorance  and  appeals  to  ignorance,  —  so  that,  even 
if  we  could  not  point  out  a  single  difficulty,  a  single  false 
assumption,  in  his  whole  scheme  and  argument,  it  would  still 
remain  a  mere  hypothesis,  alike  incapable  of  proof  and  disproof. 
The  fallacy  to  which  such  speculatists  have  recourse,  is,  that  the 
weakness  or  the  absence  of  any  considerations  against  their 
theory  constitutes  a  positive  argument  in  its  support.  No  such 
thing ;  it  affords  only  a  fair  presumption  of  the  baseless  char- 
acter of  the  whole  fabric.  We  cannot  prove  a  negative ;  we 
can  show  only  the  insufficiency  of  the  ground  on  which  an 
assumption  is  made  to  rest.  "  So  far  as  nature  is  concerned," 
says  Prof.  Sedgwick,  "  philosophy  has  nothing  to  do  with  what 
may  he,  but  with  what  is" 

The  argument  for  more  worlds  than  one  compared  with  the 
argument  for  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  —  Coming  back  for  a 
while  to  the  hypothesis  of  inhabited  planets,  it  may  be  remarked, 
that  the  common  argument  in  its  favor  is  founded,  first,  upon 
the  impossibility  of  seeing  or  proving  that  they  are  not  inhab- 
ited ;  secondly,  upon  the  analogy  between  their  situation  and 
circumstances,  and  those  of  our  own  globe  ;  and  thirdly,  upon 
the  assumed  fact,  that  it  is  inconsistent  with  what  we  know  of 
the  character  and  purposes  of  the  Deity,  to  suppose  that  he 
would  leave  such  large  orbs  tenantless.  Change  only  a  few 
names  of  things  in  this  description,  and  it  becomes  a  very  exact 
analysis  of  the  ordinary  reasoning,  from  the  light  of  nature,  to 
prove  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  This  argument  rests,  firsts 
upon  the  impossibility  of  seeing  or  proving  that  what  we  call 
death,  is  the  absolute  termination  of  our  personal  existence ; 
secondly,  upon  the  analogy  between  the  transformation  which 
takes  place  at  the  close  of  the  embryotic  period,  (which  is  a  stage 
in  all  animal  life,  our  own  included,)  and  the  transformation 
which  we  may  suppose  to  occur  at  death  ;  and  thirdly,  upon  the 
assumption,  that  the  course  of  affairs  in  this  life,  the  prevalence 


424  THE   IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL. 

of  sin  and  suffering,  and  the  promiscuous  distribution  of  happi- 
ness, are  inconsistent  with  our  notions  of  the  character  of  the 
Supreme  Being,  are  irreconcilable  with  Divine  wisdom,  justice, 
and  love,  —  so  that  we  must  suppose  a  future  state  of  existence, 
to  give  opportunity  for  redress,  for  completion,  and  for  retri- 
bution. 

The  reasoning  is  hoth  unsound  and  presumptuous. — I  may  here 
remark,  that  it  is  the  offensive,  and,  as  I  think,  groundless,  nature 
of  this  last  argument,  which  makes  one  feel  less  scrupulous 
about  exposing  the  fallacy  of  the  whole  reasoning.  Those  who 
have  labored  most  earnestly  to  establish,  independently  of  Rev- 
elation, the  doctrine  of  a  future  life,  have  unwittingly  decried 
and  calumniated  the  course  of  Providence  in  the  government 
of  this  world's  affairs.  That  there  is  some  danger  in  pressing 
such  considerations,  has  been  shown  by  Mr.  Hume,  who  argues 
with  much  plausibility,  "  that  the  only  safe  principle,  on  which 
we  can  pretend  to  judge  of  those  parts  of  the  universe  which 
have  not  fallen  under  our  examination,  is  by  concluding  them 
to  be  analogous  to  what  we  have  observed. 

*  Of  God  above  or  man  below, 
What  can  we  reason  but  from  what  we  know "? ' 

Now,  the  only  fact  we  know  with  respect  to  the  moral  govern- 
ment of  God  is,  that  the  distribution  of  happiness  and  misery  in 
human  life  is  in  a  great  measure  promiscuous.  Is  it  not,  then, 
a  most  extraordinary  inference  from  this  fact,  to  conclude  that 
there  must  be  a  future  state  of  existence  to  correct  the  inequal- 
ities of  the  present  scene  ?  Would  it  not  be  more  reasonable, 
and  more  agreeable  to  the  received  rules  of  philosophizing,  to 
conclude,  either  that  the  idea  of  a  future  state  is  a  mere  chimera, 
or  that,  if  such  an  idea  shall  ever  be  reahzed,  the  distribution 
of  happiness  and  misery  will  continue  to  be  as  promiscuous  as 
we  have  experienced  it  to  be  ?  " 

The  same  kind  of  conclusion  obtained  in  the  two  cases.  —  Re- 
turning to  the  comparison,  we  may  observe,  that  as  the  reason- 
ing in  the  two  cases  is  parallel  and  of  the  same  intrinsic  weight, 
it  might  be  expected  that  we  should  arrive  at  the  same  sort  of 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  425 

conclusion.  All  will  admit,  that  it  is  not  impossible  that  the 
planets  should  he  inhabited  ;  some  will  think  that  the  balance  of 
probability,  on  the  whole,  inclines  in  favor  of  the  hypothesis. 
But  no  one,  certainly,  will  place  this  hypothesis  among  the  ac- 
credited facts  of  science,  and  make  it  a  basis  of  his  calculations 
and  reasoning  upon  cognate  subjects.  Just  so,  looking  at  the 
matter  in  the  light  of  nature  alone,  we  must  confess,  that  it  is 
not  impossible  that  this  life  should  extend  beyond  the  grave; 
perhaps  there  are  a  few  faint  indications  that  it  will,  —  a  few 
gleams  that  pierce  the  darkness  of  that  undiscovered  bourn  from, 
whence  no  traveller  returns  ;  but  he  who  fully  accepts  and  be- 
lieves the  doctrine,  allows  his  wish  to  be  father  of  the  thought, 
and  must  be  ready,  on  all  occasions,  to  yield  his  faith  on  very 
slight  testimony.  I  do  not  say,  that,  in  such  a  case,  he  would 
be  justified  in  disregarding,  practically,  the  least  chance  of  the 
doctrine  proving  true ;  for  this,  unlike  the  question  respecting 
the  planets,  is  a  practical  matter,  and  a  wise  man  will  always 
choose  the  safe  side.  It  is  not  likely,  perhaps,  that  one  of  those 
who  are  assembled  to  hear  a  sermon,  will  die  within  the  hour ; 
but  it  is  the  part  both  of  prudence  and  of  duty,  so  to  act  as  if  the 
knell  were  to  be  sounded  for  each  within  that  time.  In  ab- 
stract cases,  however,  in  matters  of  pure  science,  we  argue  very 
differently ;  nothing  can  be  accepted  here  which  is  not  proved. 
In  examining  the  other  doctrines  of  natural  theology,  it  has 
been  my  aim  throughout  to  show,  that  they  are  supported  by 
evidence  of  the  same  general  character  with  that  on  Avhich  the 
w  hole  fabric  of  inductive  science  depends,  though  it  is  stronger 
and  more  abundant  than  what  is  often  admitted  to  be  conclusive 
in  scientific  reasoning.  The  natural  arguments  for  a  future  life 
do  not  come  up  to  this  test ;  they  cannot  sustain  this  compari- 
son ;  and  I  therefore  discard  them,  that  they  may  not  discredit 
the  reasoning  employed  to  defend  the  other  truths  of  natural 
religion. 

Continuation  of  the  parallel.  —  I  continue  the  parallel  which 
has  been  begun,  by  showing  that  virtually  the  same  answer  may 
be  made  to  the  proofs  alleged  in  either  case.  First,  the  impossi- 
bility of  proving  that  life  is  confined  to  our  planet,  or  that  the 

36* 


426  THE    IMMORTALITY    OF   THE    SOUL. 

grave  is  the  limit  of  human  existence,  as  I  have  ab-eady  shown, 
is  no  argument  at  all  to  prove  that  the  other  planets  are  inhab- 
ited, or  that  the  soul  cannot  die.  It  simply  clears  the  ground 
for  it,  if  such  an  argument  should  ever  be  discovered.  It 
leaves  the  subject  entirely  open,  as  one  which  we  know  nothing 
about,  and  therefore  as  one  that  affords  no  occasion  either  for 
belief  or  disbelief.  The  well-known  principle,  that  the  harden 
of  proof  rests  upon  him  who  maintains  the  affirmative  in  a  dis- 
cussion, is  a  dictate  of  common  sense,  no  less  than  of  sound  logic. 
I  admit  this  impossibility  to  the  fullest  extent,  and  still  maintain, 
that  not  one  step  has  been  taken  towards  the  solution  of  the 
problem. 

Secondly,  the  analogy  that  is  offered,  in  the  one  case,  ap- 
peared just  as  applicable,  a  few  years  ago,  to  our  moon,  as  to 
the  planets  Venus  and  Mars,  —  nay,  even  more  applicable,  as, 
owing  to  the  nearness  of  our  satellite,  the  circumstances  are 
more  nearly  alike.  But  the  recent  discovery  that  our  moon  has 
neither  atmosphere  nor  water,  and  that  its  surface  is  an  almost 
chaotic  scene  of  volcanic  action,  renders  it  almost  demonstrable 
that  it  is  not  inhabited.  If  the  analogy  leads  to  a  false  conclu- 
sion where  it  is  most  nearly  perfect,  what  confidence  can  we 
place  in  it  where  it  is  incomplete  ?  In  the  other  case,  the  anal- 
ogy offered  is  just  as  conclusive  for  proving  the  immortality  of 
an  oyster,  as  that  of  a  man,  the  former  having  also  passed 
through  embryotic  transformations.  He  who  builds  his  faith, 
therefore,  upon  this  analogy  between  birth  and  death,  must 
accept  the  doctrine  of  the  Indian, 

**  Who  thinks,  admitted  to  that  distant  sky, 
His  faithful  dog  will  bear  him  company." 

To  some  writers  upon  the  subject,  this  conclusion  has  not  ap- 
peared so  revolting  as  to  induce  them  to  give  up  the  argument ; 
but  as  it  is  certain  that  the  lower  animals  have  no  moral  nature 
whatever,  their  immortality  seems  very  questionable. 

Thirdly,  the  argument  that  is  based  upon  our  opinion  of  what 
is  required  by  the  nature  of  the  Divine  attributes,  in  cases 
which  go  beyond  our  experience,  our  wants,  and  our  powers  of 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  427 

observation,  appears,  as  I  have  already  hinted,  both  unsound  and 
presumptuous.  You  saj,  in  the  one  case,  that  Divine  wisdom 
cannot  have  created  bodies  so  large  as  the  planets,  for  no  other 
purpose  than  that  of  keeping  up  the  balance  of  the  system, 
and  that  no  purpose  is  so  worthy  as  that  of  making  them  the 
abodes  of  vegetable,  animal,  and  human  life.  After  all,  then, 
the  force  of  your  reasoning  depends  upon  the  size  of  these  bodies  ; 
for  if  they  were  no  larger  each  than  a  grain  of  sand,  the  suppo- 
sition that  they  are  inhabited  would  never  have  been  made. 
But  our  ideas  of  magnitude  are  wholly  relative  ;  or,  at  any 
rate,  to  Omnipotence,  the  task  of  creating  a  planet  is  no  greater 
than  that  of  fashioning  a  grain  of  sand.  Is  it  derogatory  to  thr* 
w  isdom  of  the  Almighty  to  suppose,  that  any  particle  of  earth 
or  rock  upon  our  own  globe  does  not  contribute  its  part  to  the 
support  of  life  ?  Who  will  venture  to  decide  in  a  case  present- 
ing so  many  considerations  that  are  obviously  beyond  the  reach 
of  the  human  intellect?  *     Besides,  we  have  no  assurance  that 

*  The  recent  publication  in  England  of  an  eloquent  and  ingenious  essay 
on  "  The  Plurality  of  Worlds/'  supposed  to  be  written  by  Dr.  Whewell, 
has  revived  the  discussion  of  this  question,  whether  there  are  other  orbs  in 
the  solar  and  stellar  systems  which  are  inhabited  like  our  earth.  The 
work  has  been  answered  with  considerable  abihty  and  acrimony  by  Sir 
David  Brewster,  at  first  in  the  pages  of  the  North  British  Eeview,  and 
afterwards  in  a  separate  pubhcation,  entitled  "  IMore  Worlds  than  One." 
Thus  we  have  elaborate  arguments,  one  on  each  side  of  the  question,  from 
two  of  the  most  eminent  men  of  science  in  Great  Britain.  Each  conclu- 
sively shows  the  v/eakness  of  his  opponent's  case,  and  thus  indirectly  leads 
the  reader's  mind  to  the  pix>per  result,  that  there  are  no  materials  for 
forming  an  opinion  on  either  side  of  the  question.  Dr.  "Wliewell  began  at 
a  disadvantage,  by  undertaking  to  proi'e  a  negative;  he  has  very  ingen- 
iously brought  together  the  scanty  data  which  astronomical  science  affords, 
forjudging  of  the  physical  condition  of  other  planets,  and  of  the  members 
of  other  systems,  in  order  to  prove  that  such  a  being  as  man  could  not  ex- 
ist upon  any  one  of  them.  His  antagonist  evades  such  reasoning  alto- 
gether, by  stating  that  the  physical  constitution  of  the  inhabitants  of  other 
worlds  may  be  very  different  from  ours,  and  yet  be  as  happily  adapted  to 
their  abode,  as  ours  is  to  this  earth.  This  consideration  alone,  to  which 
no  answer  is  possible,  is  enough  to  confute  all  the  positive  arguments  on 
the  other  side ;  we  have  only  to  give  the  reins  to  our  imaginations,  and 
coEceive  of  the  moral  and  intellectual  endowments  of  human  beings  lodged 


428  THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL. 

the  extension  of  the  plan  of  organic  creation,  as  it  is  developed 
upon  the  surface  of  our  earth,  is  the  only  object,  or  the  worthiest 


in  the  bodies  of  fishes,  birds,  or  mythological  monsters,  in  order  to  find  fit 
inhabitants  for  tenanting  any  world  lander  any  conceivable  circumstances. 
Sir  David  Brewster  triumphs  in  this  view  of  the  case ;  but  he  forgets  that 
it  is  his  duty,  as  maintaining  the  affirmative  side  of  the  question,  to  ad- 
duce some  proof,  some  shadow  of  direct  argument,  that  other  worlds  than 
our  own  are  inhabited.  This  he  cannot  do  ;  the  whole  positive  plea  upon 
his  side  consists  in  a  very  faint  analogy,  and  a  very  arrogant  assumption. 
The  known  points  of  resemblance  between  this  earth  and  its  sister  orbs 
are  neither  many  nor  important ;  the  analogy  between  them,  though  it 
may  amuse  the  fancy,  cannot  direct  the  judgment.  Man  cannot  so  far 
scan  the  designs  of  Omnipotence,  as  to  be  able  to  affirm,  that  any  portion 
of  the  universe  exists  without  a  purpose,  if  it  be  not  inhabited  by  beings 
like  ourselves.  From  the  very  natux*e  of  the  case,  the  utmost  that  Sir 
David  Brewster  can  do,  is,  to  show  that,  in  a  certain  case,  the  conditions 
are  fulfilled  which  render  human  existence  possible.  In  other  words,  he 
can  only  show,  that  man  might  live  there  ;  but  this  is  not  advancing  a  step 
towards  the  proof,  that  man  does  live  there.  Man  might  have  lived  on 
Pitcairn's  Island,  before  the  mutineers  of  the  Bounty  went  thither ;  or  on 
Juan  Fernandez,  before  Alexander  Selkirk  made  it  his  home ;  but  as  a 
matter-of-fact,  he  did  not  live  in  either  of  the  places,  till  these  events  took 
place. 

Dr.  WhewelFs  best  point  is  his  reply  to  the  common  assertion  of  his 
antagonists,  that  it  would  be  unworthy  of  Omnipotence  to  leave  such  vast 
orbs  as  Mars  and  Jupiter  uninhabited  by  rational  beings.  He  answers 
that,  as  the  geologists  have  satisfactorily  proved,  this  earth  did  exist, 
through  unnumbered  ages,  as  the  abode  only  of  reptiles  and  still  lower 
orders  of  being.  It  was  only  a  few  thousand  years  ago,  that  the  earth 
seems  to  have  become  ripe,  so  to  speak,  for  the  habitation  of  man.  Other 
planets  and  other  systems  may  yet  be  passing  through  similar  ages  of 
preparation  —  may  not  yet  be  ready  for  this  gi-and  consiimmation  of  the 
purpose  for  which  they  were  created.  Here,  again,  the  argument  is  con- 
clusive against  those  who  dogmatically  maintain  the  opposite  side  of  the 
question ;  but  it  is  no  answer  at  all,  to  those  who  find  as  little  reason  to 
deny  as  to  affirm,  that  the  planets  are  inhabited,  and  who  content  them- 
selves with  saying,  that  the  matter  is  beyond  the  reach  of  the  human  fac- 
ulties. 

On  the  whole,  the  discussion  between  these  two  savans,  brilliant  and 
amusing  as  it  is,  leaves  the  question  precisely  where  it  was  before,  —  a 
matter  for  fanciful  speculation,  but  not  for  scientific  research  or  true 
knowledge. 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  429 

one,  that  can  engage  the  attention  of  the  Deity.  Our  observa- 
tion is  limited  to  a  speck  of  earth,  and  we  may  not  spell  out  all 
His  designs  to  whom  the  universe  is  indebted  for  its  being. 
So,  in  the  other  case,  the  assumption,  that  the  existence  of  evil 
belies  all  our  notions  of  the  goodness  of  the  Creator,  must  de- 
pend on  our  ideas  of  the  nature  and  magnitude  of  that  evil.  If 
the  presence  of  misfortune  and  wrong  in  any  shape,  or  to  any 
extent,  is  inconsistent  with  his  perfections,  then  the  permission 
of  them,  even  for  a  limited  period,  tJwugh  they  should  be  redressed 
or  removed  in  a  future  life,  leaves  a  stain  upon  his  attributes. 
It  may  be  consoling  for  us  to  believe,  that  the  virtue  which 
does  not  meet  with  its  desert  in  this  stage  of  existence,  will  be 
rewarded  or  compensated  hereafter ;  but  this  does  not  remove 
the  reproach  from  the  administration  of  Him  who  has  the  gov- 
ernment equally  of  this  life  and  of  that  which  is  to  come.  Be- 
sides, what  do  you  assume  to  he  the  only  proper  reward  of  purity 
and  virtue  ?  Is  it  happiness  ?  Then  is  happiness  man's  gi'eat- 
est  good,  and  holiness  is  only  a  means  for  its  attainment.  You 
shrink  instinctively  from  this  conclusion,  and  still  demand 
another  life,  or  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  not  as  a  means  for 
the  improvement  of  character,  an  object  which  is  obtainable  in 
this  world,  with  all  its  imputed  defects  and  evils,  but  as  a  sphere 
or  an  opportunity  for  the  more  perfect  enjoyment  that  you 
crave.  Turn  the  matter  as  we  may,  there  is  selfishness,  as  well 
as  presumption,  in  thus  building  our  hopes  of  another  life  on  the 
supposed  imperfect  justice  with  which  the  concerns  of  this  life 
are  administered. 

Insufficiency  of  the  metaphysical  argument  for  a  future  state, 
—  Leaving  now  this  parallel,  which  I  have  followed  so  far  only 
to  show,  that  the  reasoning  which  would  not  be  admitted  as 
legitimate  in  the  ordinary  investigations  of  science,  must  be  re- 
jected also  in  theology,  I  pass  to  a  more  particular  examination 
of  the  usual  arguments  for  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  or  rather 
for  a  future  state,  —  inasmuch  as  hardly  one  of  these  arguments 
has  any  bearing  upon  the  subject  of  an  endless  existence.  They 
are  properly  divided  into  the  metaphysical  and  the  moral  argu^ 
ment,  —  the  former  being  derived  from  the  iinmaterial  or  indi- 


430  THE    IMMORTALITY    OF   THE    SOUL. 

visible  nature  of  mind  or  self,  while  the  latter  is  drawn  chiefly 
from  a  comparison  of  the  constitution  of  man  with  the  circum- 
6ta,nces  in  wliicli  he  is  placed  at  present.*  In  the  former,  it  is 
urged  that  death  is  a  very  different  thing  from  annihilation,  and 
though  the  course  of  nature  gives  us  abundant  instances  of  the 
one,  it  furnishes  not  a  single  example  of  the  other.  What  we 
call  death,  is  the  cessation  of  the  activity  of  a  complex  organism 
or  machine,  the  various  parts  of  which  subsequently  decay,  or 
are  resolved  into  their  primitive  elements  ;  but  not  an  atom  of 
them  is  lost,  not  one  particle  is  annihilated.  The  carcass  of  an 
animal  is  resolved  into  its  constituent  gases  and  earths,  which 
go,  for  a  time,  to  increase  the  stock  of  inorganic  matter,  per- 
haps to  be  again  withdrawn  from  it,  to  enter  into  fresh  com- 
bmations,  and  contribute  to  the  support  of  a  new  life.  Here  is 
no  absolute  destruction,  nothing  but  the  resolution  of  a  com- 
pound into  its  elements,  and  the  formation  of  new  compounds. 
There  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  the  quantity  of  matter  in  the 


*  Strictly  speaking,  the  metaphysical  argument  proves  only  the  possi- 
bility of  a  future  state,  and  is  insufficient,  because  we  can  never  argue  from 
what  may  he,  to  what  is.  "We  know,  for  instance,  that  the  ichthyosaurus  is 
a  possible  animal,  for  Ave  find  its  remains  entombed  in  the  solid  rock  ;  but 
we  also  know  that  the  ichthyosaurus  does  not  now  exist  upon  this  earth. 
The  moral  argument  is  intended  to  show  the  probability  of  man's  future 
existence,  and  is  unsatisfactory  because  it  rests  upon  two  groundless  as- 
sumptions ;  — first,  that  the  presence  of  apparent  evil  in  this  life  cannot  be 
explained  without  impeaching  the  goodness  of  the  Creator ;  and  secondly, 
that  the  supposition  of  a  future  life,  from  which  evil  is  excluded,  is  a  satis- 
factory way,  and  the  only  way,  of  vindicating  the  Divine  benevolence.  I 
deny  all  these  postulates.  As  we  have  already  seen,  the  doctrine  that  vir- 
tue, not  happiness,  is  man's  highest  interest,  disproves  the  alleged  existence  of 
evil  in  our  present  condition,  and  leaves  nothing  to  be  remedied  by  the 
prospect  of  a  future  life.  Again,  we  have  no  right  to  assume  that  another 
state  of  being  is  the  only  means  whereby  an  omniscient  and  omnipotent 
Creator  can  vindicate  his  perfections ;  he  may  have  provided  other  com- 
pensations that  we  know  not  of.  Still  further,  as  I  have  already  argued, 
the  supposition  of  perfect  justice  and  endless  happiness  hereafter  would 
not  account  for  injustice  and  misery  in  our  present  lot.  Why  are  we  not 
introduced  at  once  to  the  supposed  state  of  perfection,  without  the  neces- 
eity  of  passing  thi'ough  the  evils  of  this  world  1 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  431 

universe  is  less  by  one  particle  than  it  was  at  the  creation ;  but 
there  is  every  reason  to  believe  the  contrary.  Now  we  have 
perfect  evidence  that  the  mind,  the  person,  what  we  call  self,  is 
an  absolute  unit ;  it  is  even  inconceivable  that  it  should  be  com- 
plex, or  should  consist  of  parts.  What  power,  then,  has  death 
over  it?  "We  claim  no  more  for  mind  than  we  do  for  matter,  in 
maintaining  that  it  survives  death.  Of  either  it  may  be  said, 
that  it  "  cannot,  but  by  annihilation,  die ; "  and  we  have  no  in- 
stance to  show  that  annihilation  is  possible. 

This  reasoning  is  ingenious  an4  plausible ;  but  you  perceive 
that  its  only  effect  is  to  refute  the  skeptical  assumption,  that  life 
terminates  at  the  grave.  It  opens  the  way  for  a  proof  from 
revelation  or  some  other  source,  if  any  such  proof  can  he  found, 
that  life  actually  continues  beyond  the  grave  ;  it  shows  the  pos- 
sihility  of  such  continuance,  but  not  its  certainty,  not  even  its 
prohahility.  For  there  is  this  capital  distinction  between  the 
effects  of  death  upon  matter  and  upon  mind.  We  know  that 
death  is  not  the  annihilation  of  the  particles  or  elements  that 
make  up  the  material  organism,  for  these  remain  subject  to  our 
observation  ;  we  can  see  and  handle  them,  and  trace  them  into 
the  new  compounds  of  which  they  go  to  form  a  part.  But  the 
mind,  the  man,  disappears  to  mortal  vision  when  the  breath  has 
once  left  the  body ;  we  cannot  trace  hinn  after  the  dissolution  of 
the  frail  tenement  that  he  once  inhabited.  Beyond  the  tomb, 
to  our  human  perceptions,  is  a  blank,  —  is  nothingness.  No 
voice  has  ever  broken  that  awful  silence,  no  form  has  ever  re- 
turned from  that  impenetrable  shade,  save  that  of  Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  and  those  to  whom  he  spake.  While  we  admit,  there- 
fore, the  possibility  that  our  friends  survive,  though  we  see  them 
not,  we  must  admit,  also,  that  we  have  no  evidence  of  their  exist- 
ence but  from  revelation.  A  similar  remark  may  be  made  on 
the  analogy  that  is  often  proposed  between  sleep  and  death. 
We  know  that  man  awakes  out  of  sleep,  as  we  have  repeatedly 
witnessed  the  fact ;  and  this  shows  the  possibility  of  such  an 
awakening  hereafter.  But  we  do  not  know,  except  from  God's 
revealed  word,  that  he  awakes  after  the  sleep  of  death,  for  such 
a  resurrection  we  have  never  witnessed. 


4B2  THE  IMMORTALITY  OF  THE  SOUL, 

Matter  is  not  necessarily  indestructible.  —  The  metaphysical 
argument  proves  nothing,  unless  we  assume  that  the  elements 
or  primary  particles  of  matter,  and,  generally,  all  things  which 
are  not  compounded  or  made  up  of  parts,  are  essentially  inde- 
structible J  that  is,  that  they  exist  by  a  necessity  of  their  own 
nature.  Then  the  time  never  could  have  been  when  they  did 
not  exist ;  what  is  indestructible  must  also  be  ingenerable,  as  the 
possibility  of  its  non-existence  at  any  antecedent  period,  how- 
ever remote,  negatives  the  supposition  of  its  necessary  exist- 
ence. I  adopt,  therefore,  the  ^conclusion  of  Mr.  Stewart,  who 
says,  that  "  this  argument,  supposing  it  were  logical,  proves  too 
much ;  for  it  concludes  as  strongly  against  the  possibility  of  the 
soul's  being  created  as  dissolved ;  and,  accordingly,  we  find  that 
almost  all  the  ancient  philosophers  who  believed  in  a  future  state 
maintained,  also,  the  doctrine  of  the  soul's  preexistence.  Nay, 
some  of  them  seem  to  have  considered  the  latter  point  as  still 
better  established  than  the  former.  In  the  Phaedon  of  Plato,  in 
which  Socrates  is  introduced  as  stating  to  his  friends,  immedi- 
ately before  his  execution,  the  proofs  of  a  future  state,  Cebes, 
who  is  one  of  the  speakers  in  the  dialogue,  admits  that  he  has 
been  successful  in  establishing  the  doctrine  of  the  soul's  preex- 
istence, but  insists  on  further  proofs  of  the  possibility  of  its 
surviving  the  body." 

The  argument  by  Plato  and  Cicero  examined.  —  I  may  add, 
that  in  the  most  remarkable  passage  of  Cicero's  writings  refer- 
ring to  this  subject,  —  the  Dream  of  Scipio,  —  the  same  fact  is 
held  to  prove  both  the  preexistence  and  the  immortality  of  the 
soul.  The  argument,  indeed,  is  translated  almost  literally  from 
the  Phaedrus  of  Plato.  The  shade  of  Africanus  argues  thus :  — 
Every  thing  which  derives  its  motion  from  something  else,  may 
evidently  cease  to  move,  and  cease  to  exist ;  for  the  cause  of  its 
motion  may  be  withdrawn.  On  the  other  hand,  that  which 
moves  itself,  as  it  does  not  derive  its  movement  from  any  thing 
else,  but  is  the  source  or  origin  of  its  own  motion  and  of  the 
motion  of  other  things,  never  began  to  be ;  for  that  which  is 
itself  a  source  and  a  primal  cause,  has  no  beginning.  So,  also, 
as  it  moves  itself,  the  cause  of  its  motion  can  never  be  with- 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  433 

drawn ;  for  it  cannot  leave  or  desert  itself.  It  must,  therefore, 
live  and  move  forever.  Now  the  body  of  man  is  moved  by  the 
indwelling  soul,  which  may  depart  from  it,  so  that  the  body  will 
cease  to  move,  and  will  perish ;  but  that  soul  moves  itself j  and, 
accordingly,  it  was  not  created,  and  it  can  never  cease  to  be.* 

This  is  a  good  specimen  of  the  acute  metaphysical  reasonino^ 
of  the  ancients ;  but  as  it  wholly  overlooks  the  consideration, 
that  a  superior  being  may  not  only  directly  move  an  inferior  one, 
hut  may  give  it  the  power  of  moving  itself  for  a  limited  period, 
just  as  man  fashions  and  winds  up  a  watch,  which  will  then,  in 
a  certain  sense,  move  itself  for  twenty-four  hours,  we  need  not 
dwell  upon  it  here.  The  whole  scope  of  the  metaphysical  argu- 
ment, if  properly  carried  out,  is  to  prove  the  necessary  exist- 
ence both  of  matter  and  mind  through  an  antecedent  eternity, 
and  through  the  eternity  which  is  to  come. 

The  limits  of  human  scie7ice.  —  As  I  had  occasion  to  remark 
in  the  former  Part,  the  province  of  human  science  in  regard  to 
objects  that  exist,  is  strictly  limited  to  that  which  is  and  that  ivhich 
has  been  ;  the  former  being  known  to  us  through  observation  and  , 
experiment,  the  latter  through  memory  and  the  testimony  of 
others,  or  through  the  permanency  of  the  effects  which  it  has 
produced.  The  present  and  the  past  constitute  our  sphere  of 
knowledge ;  vainly  do  we  attempt  to  descry  the  future,  except 
through  supernatural  illumination.  The  only  exceptions  to  this 
rule  are,  the  eternal  future  duration  of  the  Deity,  which  we  im- 
mediately deduce  from  his  antecedent  eternity  as  the  First 
Cause,  and  that  probability  of  certain  future  events,  which  is 
founded  upon  our  knowledge  of  the  uniformity  of  his  modes  of 
operation,  and  of  the  fact  that  infinite  wisdom  cannot  change. 

What  is  called  the  natural  desire  for  immortality  is  only  the 
fear  of  death.  —  The  moral  argument  for  a  future  state  seems 
to  me  still  more  vague  and  unsatisfactory  than  that  which  is 
metaphysical.     Under  this  head  are  ranked,  first,  the  presump- 


*  This  is  a  paraphrase,  rather  than  a  translation ;  the  original  may  be 
found  in  Plato,  Phcedrus,  §  51-53,  and  in  Cicero,  Tus.  Disp,  I.  23,  and 
Somn,  Sctp.  8,  9. 

37 


434  THE   IMMORTALITY    OF   THE    SOUL. 

tions  arising  from  "  the  natural  desire  of  immortality,  and  the 
anticipations  of  futurity  inspired  by  hope  ;  "  —  the  pi^esumptions, 
I  say,  for  these  feelings  surely  cannot  be  considered  as  affording 
any  positive  proof  of  the  reality  of  that  state  of  existence  to 
which  they  point.  But  it  is  argued,  that  "  whatever  desires  are 
evidently  implanted  in  our  minds  by  nature,  and  are  encouraged 
by  the  noblest  and  worthiest  principles  of  our  constitution,  we 
may  reasonably  conclude,  will  in  due  time  be  gratified  under 
the  government  of  a  Being  infinite  both  in  power  and  goodness." 
Now,  it  is  obviously  difficult  for  those  who  have  always  lived 
under  the  light  of  the  Christian  revelation,  to  know  how  strong, 
or  how  natural,  these  desires  are,  when  they  have  not  been  fos- 
tered by  positive  assurances  from  a  source  that  we  cannot  dis- 
trust. Our  minds  have  been  nurtured,  our  lives  guided,  by  the 
well-founded  hopes  which  Christianity  affords ;  and  certainly  it 
would  be  a  rude  and  painful  shock,  to  learn  that  these  hopes 
were  vain.  But  go  back  to  the  times  antecedent  to  the  birth  of 
our  Saviour,  and  ask  how  many  of  the  common  people,  under 
the  Grecian  and  Roman  commonwealths,  were  accustomed  to 
cherish  the  desire  of  an  existence  beyond  the  grave.  I  do  not 
mean  to  imply,  that  they  had  no  such  hope  or  expectation.  Un- 
questionably, life  is  sweet,  with  all  its  vexations,  sufferings,  and 
cares ;  and  most  persons  shrink  from  the  termination  of  it,  if  for 
no  other  reason,  from  an  unwillingness  to  have  the  projects  of 
the  hour  cut  short,  —  to  leave  the  plough  in  the  furrow,  the 
book  half  read,  or  the  house  half  finished.  It  is  not  so  much 
that  they  wish  for  immortality,  as  that  they  fear  death  ;  and  it  is 
not  because  death,  if  painless,  is  in  itself  so  terrible,  as  that  at 
no  one  time  are  they  just  ready  for  it.  Accordingly,  with  the 
pagan  world,  a  future  state  was  but  a  shadowy  counterpart,  a 
dream-like  continuance,  of  their  earthly  life,  —  a  prolongation, 
in  the  dusky  realms  of  Pluto,  of  its  exercises,  its  amusements, 
and  its  cares.  In  the  Elysian  fields,  the  warrior  still  bore  his 
armor  and  brandished  his  javelin,  the  huntsman  pursued  the 
flying  game,  "  the  hunter  and  the  deer  a  shade/'  the  poet-priest 
sang  to  his  harp,  and  the  athletes  wrestled  in  the  arena. 
"  Whatever  delight,  when  aUve,  they  had  in  chariots  and  arms, 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF   THE    SOUL.  435 

whatever  pleasure  in  keeping  fine  horses,  the  same  tastes  con- 
tinue with  them  after  their  bodies  have  been  consigned  to  the 
earth."  *  And  still  they  are  vexed  with  a  dim  notion  of  the 
shadowy  and  unsubstantial  character  of  these  enjoyments  of  the 
dead.  The  shade  of  the  warrior,  when  questioned  on  the  sub- 
ject, impatiently  declares,  that  he  would  rather  be  a  poor  slave 
on  the  earth,  than  a  monarch  over  all  the  spectres  of  the  de- 
parted.! 

"  The  weariest  and  most  loathed  worldly  life, 
That  age,  ache,  penury,  and  imprisonmient 
Can  lay  on  nature,  is  a  paradise 
To  what  we  fear  of  death." 

In  these  pictures,  which  certainly  represent  the  faith  of  the 
most  refined  nations  of  pagan  antiquity,  I  see  a  love  of  life,  or  a 
dread  of  death,  hut  no  proper  desire  for  a  future  state  of  endless 
being.  If  a  few  philosophers  and  moralists  discarded  these  vain 
and  unworthy  conceptions  of  futurity,  they  had  nothing  to  sub- 
stitute for  them  but  some  speculations,  almost  equally  paltry, 
about  the  preexistence  and  the  transmigration  of  souls.  It  may 
well  be  doubted,  therefore,  whether  any  such  desire  as  is  here 
made  the  basis  of  an  argument  for  immortality,  is  natural  to 
man  ;  —  that  is,  whether  it  is  a  primitiv'e  impulse,  an  original 
and  universal  principle  in  our  constitution,  so  that  it  would  be 
an  impeachment  of  Divine  wisdom  to  suppose  that  it  was  im- 
planted in  us  without  a  purpose,  or  of  Divine  goodness  to 
believe  that  it  is  not  to  be  gratified. 

Not  all  our  desires  are  meant  to  he  gratified.  —  "  If  life,"  says 


*  Quae  gratia  currum 
Arniorumque  fuit  vivis,  qu£e  cura  nitentes 
Pascere  equos,  eadem  sequitur  tellure  repostos. 

^neid,  VI.  653-655. 

t  M^  6t]  fioL  ■&dvaT6v  ye  izapavda,  (paidi/j.'  'Odvaaev  • 
BovXoi/j.7]v  k'  ETzupovpog  euv  ^rjTevefiev  uXku, 
'Avdpl  Trap'  d/cA^pcj,  J  /z^  (iioTog  TToTivg  eh], 
H  TraaLv  veKveaai  Kara<p^LiuvoLaLv  uvuaaeiv. 

Odyssey,  XI.  489-491 


436  THE    IMMORTALITY    OF   THE    SOUL. 

Dr.  Brown,  "be  pleasing,  —  and  even  though  there  were  no 
existence  beyond  the  gnave,  hfe  might  still,  by  the  benevolence 
of  Ilim  who  conferred  it,  have  been  rendered  a  source  of  pleas- 
ure,—  it  is  not  wonderful  that  we  should  desire  futurity,  since 
futurity  is  only  protracted  life.  The  universal  desire,  then,  even 
if  the  desire  were  truly  universal,  would  prove  nothing  but  the 
goodness  of  Him  who  has  made  the  realities  —  or,  if  not  the 
realities,  the  hop;'s  —  of  life  so  pleasing,  that  the  mere  loss  of 
what  is  possessed  or  hoped  appears  like  a  positive  evil  of  the 
most  afflictive  kind."  "This  pleasing  hope, -this  fond  desire, 
this  longing  after  immortality  "  is  the  sentiment  of  a  Christian 
poet,  though  he  has  put  it  into  the  mouth  of  a  Roman  Stoic, 
who  is  made  to  find  in  it  a  provocation  to  suicide.  Not  all  the 
desires  which  are  natural  to  man  are  intended  to  be  gratified,  as 
we  are  continually  hankering  after  a  greater  measure  of  happi- 
ness than  we  actually  enjoy.*  It  is  enough  that  this  wish,  and 
others  of  a  similar  kind,  answer  a  useful  purpose,  by  constantly 
stimulating  us  to  action,  since  life  itself  would  otherwise  become 
vapid  and  sterile. 

Insufficiency  of  the  present  life  to  satisfy  our  aspirations.  — 
Another  branch  of  the  moral  argument  depends  on  a  compari- 
son of  our  intellectual  powers,  our  impulses  and  conceptions, 


=*  The  desire  for  health  is  both  natural  and  universal ;  but  it  is  not 
always  gratified,  and  it  is  not  even  desirable  that  we  should  have  an  entire 
exemption  from  disease.  Sickness  is  both  penal  and  reformatory,  and  it 
is  useful  in  both  relations.  It  is  one  of  the  most  important  of  the  pains 
and  penalties  with  which  transgression  is  visited,  under  the  moral  govern- 
ment of  God ;  and  it  softens  the  heart,  so  as  most  effectually  to  prepare 
the  way  for  repentance.  In  this  instance,  and  in  many  others,  we  can 
clearly  see  why  the  gratification  of  a  natural  and  universal  desire  is  denied  ; 
we  can  discern  the  moral  purpose  of  the  infliction.  Reasoning  by  induc- 
tion, then,  we  can  easily  conclude  that  such  a  moral  purpose  may  exist, 
even  when,  from  the  imperfection  of  our  faculties,  we  cannot  recognize  it. 
If  our  present  life  is  so  happily  constituted  that  all  men  desire  the  con- 
tinuance of  it,  and  shrink  from  death,  then  the  goodness  of  the  Deity  is 
sufficiently  vindicated  already,  without  having  recourse  to  the  violent  sup- 
position, that  there  is  to  be  another  state  of  being,  which  will  be  governed 
on  very  different  principles. 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF   THE    SOUL.  437 

with  the  condition  in  which  we  are  placed  in  this  life,  where  cir- 
cumstances are  for  ever  impeding  our  efforts,  thwarting  our  am- 
bition, and  baffling  our  plans.  It  is  urged,  that  "  our  faculties 
are  above  our  condition,  and  our  curiosity  is  still  greater  than 
our  faculties  can  satisfy."  The  instincts  of  the  lower  animals 
are  exactly  accommodated  to  their  wants,  and  to  the  state  in 
which  nature  has  placed  them.  They  do  not  appear  to  be 
troubled  with  any  desires  that  they  cannot  satisfy,  or  with  any 
fears  that  extend  beyond  the  safety  of  their  possessions  for  the 
moment.  But  man  is  restless,  curious,  and  impatient ;  his  con- 
ceptions are  vague  and  vast,  his  ambition  unbounded,  and  his 
curiosity  insatiable.  He  has  the  mind  of  an  archangel  im- 
prisoned in  the  carcass  of  a  worm.  It  is  affirmed,  that  "  if  he 
had  no  intimations  of  a  future  existence,  it  would  have  been 
better  for  him  never  to  have  extended  his  views  beyond  this 
globe  and  the  period  of  human  life,  instead  of  embracing,  as  at 
present,  a  stretch  of  duration  and  of  space  which  throws  a  ridi- 
cule on  the  whole  history  of  human  affairs."  We  aspire  to 
know  the  history,  not  only  of  the  earlier  generations  of  our  own 
race,  but  of  the  mutations  which  the  solid  globe  underwent  in 
those  geological  periods,  the  remoteness  of  which  can  harldly  be 
represented  by  figures,  while  to  our  aching  conceptions  they 
seem  to  he  upon  the  confines  of  eternity.  Not  content  with  the 
ability  to  predict  the  motions  and  future  positions  of  the  heav- 
enly bodies,  we  torment  ourselves  with  unanswerable  questions 
as  to  the  beings  who  inhabit  them,  or  the  purpose  which  they 
serve  in  the  grand  scheme  of  the  universe,  or  the  order  and  law 
under  which  they  were  successively  created.  The  mind  returns 
from  these  sublime  and  far-reaching  inquiries,  to  find  itself  tied 
to  a  body  which  is  limited,  in  comparison,  to  a  speck  of  earth 
and  a  moment  of  duration.  The  wants  of  this  body  afflict  it 
with  a  multitude  of  petty  cares,  and  the  ordinary  business  of 
life,  referring  mostly  to  these  wants,  seems  vexatious  and  con- 
temptible. It  is  said  that  the  disproportion  here  is  so  vast, 
that  it  cannot  be  reconciled  with  the  notions  we  have  formed  of 
the  attributes  of  the  Creator  and  Governor  of  the  universe,  ex- 
cept by  regarding  it  as  an  intimation  of  a  future  and  higher 

37* 


438  THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL. 

Btate  of  existence,  in  whicli  this  curiosity  and  these  aspirations 
shall  be  fully  satisfied. 

Proper  use  of  such  considerations.  —  I  am  far  from  wishing 
to  lessen  the  force,  or  take  away  the  applicability,  of  such  ele- 
vated considerations  as  these.  Those  whose  belief  in  a  future 
life  rests  entirely  upon  the  teachings  of  the  author  of  Christian- 
ity, may  still  dwell  upon  them  with  satisfaction  and  pleasure,  as 
they  open  new  views  of  the  purposes  to  which  the  existence 
beyond  the  tomb  may  be  subservient.  Speculations  upon  the 
nature  of  our  employments  in  another  stage  of  being,  and  upon 
the  accession  to  our  knowledge  that  will  instantly  take  place 
when  we  are  released  from  the  incumbrance  of  the  flesh,  though 
they  may  not  often  command  our  unhesitating  assent,  will  often 
afford  scope  for  profitable  meditation.  But  their  use  is  secon- 
dare/ ;  they  tend  to  fortify  and  render  inviting  the  faith  which 
was  fii'st  conceived  upon  other  grounds.  Such  a  mode  of  rea- 
soning as  is  here  adopted,  if  reasoning  it  can  be  called,  would 
hardly  occur  to  any  one  who  had  not  been  educated  in  the 
Christian  belief  from  infancy,  nor  to  such  a  one  even,  if  his  life 
had  not  been  devoted  chiefly  to  scientific  investigations  and 
speculative  pursuits.  Vastly  the  larger  portion  of  the  Christian 
world,  even  at  the  present  day,  can  with  difficulty  be  persuaded 
to  use  even  those  means  of  knowledge  which  are  opened  to 
them;  those  cannot  complain  of  the  barriers  which  limit  the 
progress  of  science,  who  do  hot  know  where  these  barriers  are 
placed,  who  have  not  gone  over  the  hundredth  part  of  the  field 
which  they  circumscribe.  There  is  more  danger  that  men  wiQ 
attach  undue  importance  to  the  petty  cares  and  transitory  in- 
terests of  this  world,  than  that  they  will  be  led  to  slight  and 
despise  them  because  their  intellects  can  traverse  creation,  and 
their  curiosity  aspires  to  number  the  stars  in  the  heavens. 

The  grand  openings  which  philosophy  and  science  afford  into 
the  scheme  of  God's  universe  seem  intended,  not  so  much  to 
warn  us  of  a  future  state  to  w^hich  we  are  destined,  as  to  coun- 
teract the  influence  of  those  passions  and  appetites  which  relate 
only  to  the  petty  objects  that  are  immediately  before  us,  and  to 
the  concerns  of  the  moment.     They  answer  a  usefid  purpose. 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  439 

then,  in  the  economy  of  this  life,  and  have  no  visible  necessary 
reference  to  that  which  is  to  come.  If  the  only  purpose  of  reason 
were  to  take  the  place  of  instinct,  in  guiding  us  to  the  proper 
mode  of  satisfying  our  bodily  wants,  then,  indeed,  we  might 
expect  that  curiosity  would  be  limited  to  those  things  which 
immediately  affect  our  temporal  well-being.  But  if  a  moral  end 
is  superadded,  if  self-improvement  is  desirable  for  its  own  sake 
and  in  any  stage  of  being,  then  there  is  an  obvious  utility  in 
rendering  our  curiosity  boundless,  so  that  the  efforts  and  inves- 
tigations to  which  it  leads  may  tend  to  the  unceasing,  the  indefi- 
nite, development  of  our  faculties.*  To  what  other  purposes 
in  God's  providence  this  insatiable  thirst  for  knowledge  may  be 
subservient,  we  do  not  know  ;  it  is  enough  for  us  to  see  that  it 
is  useful  hei^e,  —  that  it  enlarges  the  sphere  of  our  enjoyments, 
sustains  our  activity,  and  dignifies  our  life.  Surely  we  are  not 
driven  to  the  supposition  of  another,  an  untried,  state  of  exist- 
ence, in  order  to  find  any  benevolent  purpose,  or  any  useful 
result,  in  causing  man  to  thirst  after  knowledge  as  for  hidden 
treasure. 


*  "  If  the  present  state  is  to  be  the  whole  of  our  being,"  argues  Dr. 
Crombie,  "  why  are  not  our  conceptions  confined  to  the  sphere  to  which 
our  existence  is  Umited  1  Why  are  we  capable,  in  imagination  and  in 
hope,  of  rising  beyond  that  sphere  1  Why  have  we  a  notion  of  eternity  ? 
The  brutes  have  no  such  conception.     Why  is  it  given  to  man  1 " 

Surely  this  argument  proves  too  much.  We  can  form  a  conception  of 
injinite power,  just  as  well  as  of  endless  duration;  but  this  does  not  prove 
that  we  are  to  be,  not  only  immortal,  but  omnipotent. 

In  fact,  our  vague  longings  after  indefinitely  higher  attributes  than  those 
which  we  now  possess,  are  checked  by  the  obvious  consideration,  that  ad- 
vancement in  morals  depends  upon  ourselves  alone;  that  it  is  our  own 
fault,  if  we  stop  short  of  a  perfect  compUance  with  the  law  of  right ;  and 
that  infinite  wisdom  and  power  are  incompatible  with  the  existence  of 
moral  weakness  and  imperfection.  If  we  take  this  reflection  along  with 
us,  we  shall  see  that  these  lofty,  and  even  irrational,  desires,  though  they 
were  never  to  be  gratified,  still  answer  a  useful  purpose,  as  tliey  stimulate 
our  activity  and  strengthen  our  virtuous  resolutions.  Some  disappoint- 
ment, some  vain  endeavors,  are  needed  to  teach  us  humility  and  the  duty 
of  self-examination.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  we  perceive  that  the  great  end 
of  life  is  moral  discipUne  and  self-improvement. 


440  THE    IMMORTALITY    OP   THE    SOUL. 

The  goodness  of  God  needs  no  vindication  from  the  doctrine 
of  immortality.  —  I  need  not  dwell  long  upon  the  only  remain- 
ing branch  of  the  moral  argument,  —  the  discordance  between 
our  moral  judgments  and  feelings,  and  the  course  of  human  af- 
fairs, —  as  much  of  what  was  necessary  to  be  said  upon  this 
point  has  been  anticipated.  I  do  not  believe  that  the  moral 
government  of  this  world  stands  in  need  of  an  apology,  or  that 
we  must  imagine  another  world  in  which  its  errors  may  be  cor- 
rected and  its  imperfections  supplied.  Do  not  let  us  make  the 
same  mistake  as  the  Mahometans,  and  believe  in  the  immortal- 
ity of  the  soul,  only  because  we  crave  a  sensual  paradise,  and 
cannot  find  one  here  below.  You  say,  that  the  course  of  hu- 
man afi'airs  often  does  not  coincide  with  your  ideas  of.  absolute 
right ;  that  is,  the  good  often  seem  unhappy,  and  the  wicked  tri- 
umphant. To  remedy  these  evils,  you  would  create  an  Elysium 
in  which  there  should  be  no  temptation,  no  suffering,  —  where 
there  would  be  no  call  for  benevolence,  no  opportunity  for  self- 
sacrifice,  —  and  where,  consequently,  virtue  would  be  a  mere 
abstract  conception,  never  a  reality.  If  such  a  state  be  prefer- 
able to  the  one  in  which  we  live,  why  were  we  not  placed  in  it 
from  the  hegin7iing  ?  why  not  admitted  at  once  to  the  joys  of 
heaven,  without  carrying  thither  any  stains  from  earth?  By 
applying  the  doctrine  of  a  future  life  only  as  a  solution  of  the 
problem  respecting  the  origin  of  evil,  we  do  not  destroy  the  dif- 
ficulty ;  we  only  push  it  a  little  further  off.  And,  without  this 
doctrine,  the  j^resence  of  apparent  evil  in  this  life  will  not  seem 
inexplicable  to  those  who  can  see  the  whole  force  of  our  Sav- 
iour's allusion  to  the  righteousness  which  hath  its  reward,  or 
who  can  penetrate  the  meaning  of  his  solemn  declaration,  — 
"  They  shall  not  say,  Lo  here !  or  Lo  there  !  for  behold,  the 
kingdom  of  God  is  within  you." 

The  doctrine  of  Revelation  respecting  a  future  life.  —  I  do 
not  fear  lest  these  observations  should  seem  opposed  even  to 
that  belief  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul  which  is  founded 
wholly  upon  Revelation.  It  is  certainly  conceivable,  that  the 
same  scheme  of  government,  which  is  begun  here,  should  be 
continued  hereafter,  when,  though  its  essential  features  remain 


THE    IMMORTALITY    OF    THE    SOUL.  441 

unchanged,  its  excellence  shall  be  more  apparent.  We  can 
conceive  that  the  two  periods  of  human  existence  should  stand 
related  to  each  other  as  childhood  to  mature  age,  the  former 
being  a  preparation  for  the  latter,  and  still  so  justly  and  benevo- 
lently constituted  in  itself,  that,  if  existence  did  not  extend  be- 
yond it,  it  would  yet  mirror  to  our  eyes  the  perfections  of  the 
Infinite  One.  The  commands  of  conscience,  though  of  absolute 
obligation,  are  too  frequently  so  weak  as  to  lose  their  suprem- 
acy over  the  passions.  Nothing  could  tend  so  effectually  to 
increase  their  hold  upon  our  attention,  and  to  strengthen  their 
influence,  as  the  assured  belief  that  the  consequences  of  obey- 
ing or  neglecting  them  ^vill  extend,  and  wall  be  recognized  by 
us,  through  an  endless  futuritjl  The  din  and  tumult  of  earthly 
passions,  the  force  of  earthly  appetites,  which  now  obscure  or 
drown  their  utterance,  through  infinite  ages,  will  be  hushed  or 
•will  have  passed  away ;  and  as  we  have  formed  ourselves  here 
by  respecting  or  contemning  their  authority,  so  shall  we  con- 
tinue for  ever.  The  incalculable  value  of  a  Revelation  wliich 
should  fully  establish  this  great  truth,  cannot  be  more  impres- 
sively set  forth  than  in  the  few  words  with  which  Paley  closes 
his  view^  of  the  importance  of  Christianity. 

"  Had  Jesus  Christ  deUvered  no  other  declaration  than  the 
following,  — '  The  hour  is  coming,  in  the  which  all  that  are  in 
the  grave  shall  hear  his  voice,  and  shall  come  forth  ;  they  that 
have  done  good  unto  the  resurrection  of  life,  and  they  that  have 
done  evil  unto  the  resurrection  of  damnation,'  —  he  had  pro- 
nounced a  message  of  inestimable  importance,  and  well  worthy 
of  that  splendid  apparatus  of  prophecy  and  miracles  with  which 
his  mission  was  introduced  and  attested ;  —  a  message  in  which 
the  wisest  of  mankind  would  rejoice  to  find  an  answer  to  their 
doubts,  and  rest  to  their  inquiries.  It  is  idle  to  say,  that  a  fu- 
ture state  had  been  discovered  already ;  it  had  been  discover- 
ed as  the  Copernican  system  was ;  —  it  was  one  guess  among 
many.  He  alone  discovers  who  proves  ;  and  no  man  can  prove 
this  point,  but  the  preacher  who  testifies  by  miracles  that  his 
doctrine  comes  from  God." 


442  NATURAL    RELIGION   AND    REVELATION. 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE   RELATION    OF   NATURAL    TO    REVEALED    RELIGION. 

Summary  of  the  last  chapter.  —  The  object  of  the  last  chapter 
was  to  show,  that  the  doctrine  of  a  future  life,  and,  for  yet 
stronger  reasons,  that  of  the  absolute  immortality  of  the  soul, 
cannot  be  made  out  from  the  light  of  nature  alone,  or  by  the 
unassisted  intellect  of  man.  Questions  of  fact  come  within  the 
range  of  human  investigation  only  when  they  relate  to  the  pres- 
ent or  the  past ;  the  future  is  for  us  a  sealed  book,  except  so  far 
as  we  can  determine  what  may  he,  from  what  has  heeyi,  or  can 
know  dLrectly  that  what  always  has  been,  always  must  be.  We 
believe  that  fire  will  burn  the  flesh,  and  thus  cause  pain,  because 
we  have  observed  that  it  has  done  so ;  but  the  fact  that  man  has 
lived,  only  establishes  a  presumption  that  he  will  continue  to  live 
as  he  has  done,  —  that  is,  in  this  stage  of  existence,  subject  to 
our  powers  of  observation.  When  this  existence  is  interrupted 
by  death,  and  he  is  wholly  removed  from  our  sight  and  observa- 
tion, we  have  no  antecedent  fact  on  which  to  found  even  a  pre- 
sumption that  he  continues  to  live,  though  in  a  different  state 
of  being ;  for,  apart  from  revelation,  we  have  never  known  the 
grave  to  give  up  its  dead,  —  we  have  had  no  experience  of  this 
other  state  of  being.  We  perceive,  then,  that  a  future  life  is 
possible,  but  we  have  no  natural  grounds  for  believing  that  it  is 
either  probable  or  improbable. 

I  remarked,  therefore,  that  the  doctrine  of  a  future  life  stands 
on  the  same  basis  with  the  opinion,  that  the  other  planets  of 
our  system  are  inhabited  by  beings  like  ourselves ;  it  is  a  mere 
conjecture,  which  never  has  been,  and  never  can  be,  either 
proved  or  disproved.  It  lies  beyond  the  sphere  of  human 
knowledge ;  there  is  no  evidence  of  it  in  natui'e,  and  the  only 


NATURAL    RELIGION   AND    REVELATION.  443 

proof  of  which  it  is  susceptible  must  be  supernatural.  If  we 
pass  to  a  particular  examination  of  the  several  analogies  and 
presumptions  which  have  been  offered,  from  the  light  of  nature, 
in  favor  of  either  of  these  opmions,  we  shall  find  either  that  they 
prove  too  much,  or  that  they  are  wholly  vague  and  unsatisfac- 
tory, answering  rather  as -topics  of  declamation  than  as  scientific 
grounds  of  belief.  Thus,  the  analogy  between  birth  and  death 
affords  just  as  conclusive  evidence  of  the  immortahty  of  the 
whole  animate  creation  as  of  that  of  man ;  since  all  members,  both 
of  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms,  have  equally  undergone 
transfonnations,  or  passed  from  one  stage  of  being  to  another 
and  quite  a  different  one.  The  argument  from  the  essential 
unity  of  our  personal  being,  and  from  the  fact  that  death  is 
dissolution,  not  annihilation,  proves  the  preexistence,  quite  as 
strongly  as  the  future  existence,  of  the  soul,  —  affords  not  even 
a  presumption  that  mind  is  any  more  immortal  than  the  ulti- 
mate particles  of  matter,  —  and,  in  fact,  proves  nothing  in  regard 
to  either,  unless  we  make  the  perfectly  baseless  assumption,  that 
every  absolute  unit  is  essentially  indestructible  and  ingenerable. 
The  general  desire  for  immortality,  on  which  so  much  stress  has 
been  laid,  I  attempted  to  show,  from  an  examination  of  the 
opinions  of  the  ancients  upon  the  subject,  was  rather  a  love  of 
this  life  and  a  desire  for  its  prolongation,  than  any  natural  wish 
for  a  state  of  retribution  and  endless  existence  beyond  the  grave. 
To  assume,  as  is  often  done,  that  another  life  is  necessary  in 
order  to  make  up  for  the  imperfections,  and  redress  the  injustice, 
which  are  apparent  here,  is  to  assert  that  the  Deity  does  not 
govern  this  world  in  righteousness,  and  therefore  to  afford  very 
insecure  grounds  for  the  hope  that  he  has  provided  another, 
which  he  will  administer  on  different  principles.  That  our 
curiosity  is  insatiable,  and  our  aspirations  after  knowledge  are 
so  large,  that,  in  comparison  with  them,  the  ordinary  business  of 
this  life  seems  vexatious,  and  the  sphere  of  our  present  exist- 
ence contemptible,  is  a  fact  of  immense  importance  for  the 
moral  education  of  man,  and  thus  answers  so  useful  a  purpose 
here,  that  it  affords  no  clear  indication  of  what  is  to  be  here- 
after. 


444  NATURAL    RELIGION    AND    REVELATION. 

Revelation  teaches  something  more  than  the  light  of  nature.  — 
Cliristianity,  then,  is  not  a  mere  republication  of  the  doctrines 
of  Natural  Religion.  Apart  from  its  precepts,  and  its  commu- 
nication of  abstract  truth  as  to  the  relations  Avhich  connect  man 
^vith  the  Deity,  it  lias  revealed  to  the  world  a  fact  of  momen- 
tous interest,  of  which  the  human  intellect  alone  never  could 
obtain  any  satisfactory  assurance,  and  "which  is  better  calculated 
than  any  other,  to  exert  a  salutary  influence  on  the  life  and 
character.  Our  conscious  being,  our  hopes,  and  the  conse- 
quences of  our  actions,  do  not  terminate  at  the  grave,  but  ex- 
tend onward  into  a  boundless  futurity ;  this  is  now  the  assured 
behef  of  almost  the  whole  civilized  world.  Most  persons  no 
more  think  of  seriously  questioning  it,  than  they  do  of  doubting 
the  fact  of  their  present  existence.  Whence  came  this  general 
assent,  this  unquestioning  faith  ?  Contrast  it  with  the  dim  con- 
ceptions and  universal  uncertainty  upon  the  subject  which  pre- 
vailed before  ther  promulgation  of  Christianity,  and  thus  recog- 
nize the  folly  of  those,  who,  "  upon  pretence  of  the  sufficiency  of 
the  light  of  nature,  avowedly  reject  all  Revelation,  as  in  its  very 
notion  incredible,  and  what  must  be  fictitious." 

Hoiu  far  Revelation  must  be  coincident  with  Natural  Religion. 
■ —  In  passing  to  a  consideration  of  this  topic,  —  the  connection 
between  Natural  and  Revealed  Rehgion,  the  importance  of  the 
latter,  and  the  nature  of  the  evidence  to  be  required  in  its  sup- 
port, —  our  first  inquiry  must  be,  What  presumptions  does  the 
light  of  nature  afford  as  to  the  probable  character  and  purport 
of  an  immediate  Revelation  from  God,  supposing  one  to  be 
made  ?  As  the  two  schemes  come  from  the  same  Author,  the 
one  being  revealed  to  us  through  the  original  constitution  of 
our  faculties,  and  the  other  by  subsequent  and  special  commu- 
nication, we  must  expect  that  they  will  be  coincident  in  design, 
or  that  they  will  work  to  the  same  end  by  the  use  of  similar 
means.  The  law  which  is  directly  promulgated,  cannot  contra- 
dict, disprove,  or  supersede  the  law  which  is  written  on  the 
heart,  and  indicated  by  the  course  of  nature  ;  since  the  purposes 
of  the  Almighty  cannot  change.  It  may  enlarge  the  scope  of 
the  natural  law,  confirm  its  claims,  and  strengthen  it  by  addi- 


NATURAL    RELIGION   AND    REVELATION.  445 

tional  sanctions  and  motives  to  obedience.  It  may  continue 
and  complete,  but  cannot  abrogate,  the  system  which  is  founded 
on  human  nature  itself,  and  guarded  by  so  many  wise  arrange- 
ments in  the  outward  universe. 

Christianity  fulfils  these  conditions.  —  Taking  Christianity  as 
the  type  of  Eevelation,  inasmuch  as  its  claims  are  confessedly 
paramount  to  all  others,  we  find  that  all  these  conditions  are 
fulfilled.  Its  object  is  the  same,  —  the  moral  and  religious  ed- 
ucation of  man,  the  progress  of  the  individual  soul,  self-attained, 
in  purity  and  holiness.  It  reaffirms  the  moral  law,  which  we 
have  seen  embodied  in  Natural  Religion,  in  its  whole  extent, 
and  sanctions  the  severity  and  absoluteness  of  its  demands.  Its 
precepts  have  regard,  not  so  much  to  outward  acts,  as  to  the 
disposition  of  mind  from  which  such  acts  proceed,  and  to  the 
secret  purposes  of  the  heart.  It  declares  that  the  great  purpose 
of  creation  is  a  moral  one,  —  that  all  physical  arrangements  and 
events,  as  we  are  accustomed  to  call  them,  have  for  their  lead- 
ing object  to  promote  the  growth  of  the  religious  element  in 
man,  and  to  introduce  the  reign  of  justice,  purity,  and  love,  of 
truth  and  righteousness,  upon  earth.  It  distinctly  teaches  the 
doctrine  of  God  in  nature,  and  of  an  ever-watchful  Providence, 
referring  all  events,  even  the  fall  of  a  sparrow  and  the  clothing 
of  the  lilies  of  the  field,  to  the  direct  exertion  of  Almighty 
power.  And  lest  man,  in  the  infirmity  of  his  vision  or  the  ex- 
tent of  his  prejudices,  should  fail  to  recognize  the  high  moral 
purpose  to  which  such  events  are  subservient,  their  ordinary 
sequence  is  interrupted  for  his  instruction.  The  winds  and  the 
sea,  the  eyes  of  the  blind  and  the  ears  of  the  deaf,  the  very 
issues  of  life  and  death,  are  made  immediately  obedient  to  the 
voice  of  the  great  Teacher  and  Exemplar  of  mercy,  hoHness, 
and  truth.  A  miracle,  then,  is  not  so  much  a  suspension  of  the 
laws  of  nature,  as  a  more  distinct  announcement  of  the  object  for 
which  those  laws  are  observed.  It  does  not  evince  a  change  of 
purpose  on  the  part  of  their  Author,  but  makes  that  original 
purpose  more  directly  evident  to  man,  through  a  momentary 
but  striking  change  in  the  mode  of  operation.  It  is  a  conde- 
scension to  human  infirmity,  an  opening  of  the  eyes  of  the  blind, 

38 


446  NATURAL   RELIGION   AND    REVELATION. 

—  not  an  alteration  in  the  laws  of  sights  or  in  the  purposes  of 
God. 

A  revelation  was  to  he  expected.  —  This  is  the  only  idea  that 
we  can  form  of  Revealed  Religion,  the  only  concej)tion  of  it 
that  is  possible,  since  revelation  is  itself  a  miracle.  It  is  the 
teaching  of  Providence,  not  altered  in  its  purport,  but  rendered 
more  distinct  and  obvious  to  human  perception ;  the  law  pro- 
claimed on  Sinai  is  but  an  additional  announcement  of  the  law 
within  the  breast,  though  made  more  clear  and  impressive,  and 
so  more  likely  to  obtain  obedience.  Knowing  the  weakness  of 
human  nature  and  the  goodness  of  God,  a  revelation,  a  miracle, 
was  precisely  what  man  had  reason  to  expect ;  and  this  would 
l>e  true,  though  the  revealed  doctrine  neither  made  any  addition 
1o  the  list  of  our  duties,  nor  communicated  any  fact  of  such 
priceless  value  as  that  of  an  existence  after  death.  Man  had 
become  so  hardened,  his  passions  had  obtained  so  much  the 
mastery  over  him,  sluggishness  and  ignorance  had  so  imbruted 
his  being,  that  the  Divine  marks  upon  his  soul  were  nearly 
effaced.  The  law  of  God,  though  knowable,  was  not  known  by 
him.  What  he  needed,  then,  was  not  the  announcement  of  a 
new  truth,  or  the  promulgation  of  an  additional  law^,  but  some 
startling  event  to  remind  him  of  his  origin,  the  pui^ose  of  his 
being,  and  his  duty.  The  old  law  needed  to  be  written  in 
characters  of  flame,  dazzling  his  outward  vision,  before  it  could 
sufficiently  command  his  attention  and  subdue  his  selfishness. 
Knowledge  was  not  difficult  to  be  had,  or  unattainable ;  but 
obedience  was  not  easy.  Ignorance  and  habit  had  confirmed  the 
dominion  of  sin. 

What  is  called  Natural  Religion  is  in  fact  revealed.  —  But  it 
is  true  only  in  one  sense,  and  that  not  the  most  obvious  one, 
that  Revelation  has  added  but  little  to  the  doctrines  and  pre- 
cepts of  Natural  Religion,  save  the  great  truth  of  the  immor- 
tality of  the  soul.  We  are  accustomed  to  speak  of  Natural 
Religion  as  if  it  were  a  distinct  system  of  faith,  which  actually 
existed  and  was  recognized  by  men  before  Christianity  was 
born,  while  it  is  still  believed  and  practised  by  many  who  do 
not  admit  the  evidence  of  any  supernatural  revelation.     But  it 


NATURAL    RELIGION    AND    REVELATION.  447 

is  not  so.  "\Yliat  we  call  Natural  Religion,  and  what  I  have 
endeavored  to  exhibit  as  such  in  this  work,  never  did  exist 
before  the  promulgation  of  Christianity,  or  without  the  aid  of  a 
previous  revelation, — not  even  a  faint  semblance  of  it ;  it  extends 
vastly  beyond  the  furthest  point  which  the  unassisted  intellect 
of  those  early  ages,  or  of  any  subsequent  age,  ever  attained. 
What  we  call  Natural  Religion  never  obtained,  as  a  distinct  sys- 
tem of  belief,  generally  avowed  and  acted  upon  by  large  bodies 
of  men,  in  any  country  or  in  any  age.  It  is  not,  and  it  never 
was,  a  rival  of  Christianity,  or  something  which  will  enable 
mankind  to  do  without  Christianity  There  is  no  such  thing  as 
a  half-way  house  to  heaven.  What  goes  by  the  name  of  Natural 
Religion,  is  nearly  as  much  the  direct  gift  of  revelation  to  man, 
as  the  knowledge  of  a  future  life  itself.  Instead  of  seeking  to 
eliminate  the  supernatural  element  in  religion,  and  to  merge 
Revelation  in  the  natural  system,  truth  requires  us  to  merge 
the  natural  system  in  the  revealed,  and  to  look  upon  the  whole 
as  the  fruit  of  immediate  communication  from  heaven.  At  the 
time  of  our  Saviour's  appearance  upon  earth,  the  question  for 
his  hearers  was  not  between  the  doctrine  that  he  taught  and 
Natural  Religion,  but  between  that  doctrine  and  Judaism,  or 
polytheism,  or  some  other  of  the  myriad  forms  of  positive  re- 
ligion, or  the  so-called  philosophical  unbelief.  Just  so,  at  the 
present  day,  we  have  to  choose,  not  between  Christianity  and 
Natural  Religion,  —  for  it  is  impossible  to  rest  there,  —  but  be- 
tween Christianity  and  utter  skepticism,  or  Mohammedanism,  or 
gross  and  vulgar  idolatry.  This  is  the  case  so  far  as  opinion, 
or  belief,  is  concerned  ;  and  the  conduct  of  men  is  a  practical 
confirmation  of  this  view.  None  but  avowed  skeptics  as  to  all 
religion  openly  reject  Christianity,  because  they  cannot  resist 
the  testimony  in  its  favor ;  but  they  fall  back  upon  an  avowal  of 
it  in  word,  and  a  denial  of  it  in  deed.     So  it  must  always  be. 

Hoio  far  religion  and  science  are  natural  to  man.  —  But  these 
assertions  need  explanation  and  proof,  and  I  proceed  to  give 
them.  Natural  Religion,  as  I  have  endeavored  to  expound  it, 
is  a  comphance  with  the  moral  law  in  its  full  extent  and  purity, 
because  it  is  God's  command,  or  throuj^h  veneration  for   the 


448  NATURAL    RELIGION    AND    REVELATION. 

Divine  character ;  together  with  a  recognition  of  his  presence 
and  constant  agency  in  the  universe,  and  of  his  immediate  gov- 
ernment of  all  events,  both  physical  and  moral,  with  a  view  to 
the  moral  and  religious  improvement  of  mankind.  Now  what  is 
knowable  is  to  be  clearly  distinguished  from  what  is  actually 
known.  The  discovery  of  a  truth  is  not  the  same  thing  with  find- 
ing the  evidence  of  that  truth  after  the  discovery  has  been  made  ; 
the  latter  is  always  much  the  easier  task  of  the  two  ;  it  is  the 
work  of  an  inferior  understanding.  Strictly  speaking,  all  sci- 
ence, both  that  which  is  actually  j)ossessed  by  civilized  nations  in 
their  present  state  of  culture,  and  all  that  is  attainable  by  their 
future  efforts,  is  natural  to  man  ;  it  was  originally  placed  within 
reach  of  the  human  faculties,  and  was  designed  to  reward  study 
and  investigation.  What  is  called  Natural  Religion  is  natural 
to  man  in  no  other  sense  than  as  a  full  knowledge  of  the  Prin- 
cipia  of  Newton  is  natural  to  the  understanding  of  every  child ; 
that  is,  when  the  propositions  are  placed  before  him  with  their 
evidence,  and  brought  within  his  comprehension,  he  immediately 
recognizes  their  truth  and  sufficiency.*      Could  he,  therefore, 


=*  "  In  one  sense,  and  an  obvious  sense  of  the  words,  religion  is  a  universal 
want  of  man.  It  is  requii-ed  for  the  development  of  his  moral  and  spirit- 
ual powers.  He  is  sulFering,  tempted,  and  imperfect ;  and  he  needs  it  for 
consolation,  for  sti'ength  to  resist,  and  for  encouragement  to  make  prog- 
ress. It  is  connected,  not  with  any  particular  faculty  or  faculties,  but 
with  the  whole  nature  of  man,  as  a  moral  and  immortal  being,  a  creature 
of  God.  But  religious  principle  and  feeling,  however  important,  are  nec- 
essarily founded  on  the  belief  of  certain  facts ;  of  the  existence  and  provi- 
dence of  God,  and  of  man's  immortality.  Now  the  evidence  of  these  facts 
is  not  intuitive ;  and  whatever  ground  for  the  belief  of  them  may  be  af- 
forded by  the  phenomena  of  nature,  or  the  ordinary  course  of  events,  it  is 
certain  that  the  generality  of  men  have  never  been  able  by  their  unassisted 
reason  to  obtain  assurance  concerning  them.  Out  of  the  sphere  of  those 
unenlightened  by  Divine  revelation,  neither  the  belief  nor  the  imagination 
of  them  has  operated  with  any  considerable  effect  to  produce  the  relig- 
ious character.  The  belief  in  these  facts,  if  it  exist  independently  of 
Christian  faith,  must  either  be  a  mere  prejudice,  or  must  be  a  deduction 
of  reason.  But  the  process  of  I'casoning  required  to  attain  the  assur- 
ance of  a  Christian,  if  it  might  have  been  successfully  pursued  by  a  ver; 
wise,  enlightened,  and  virtuous  heathen,  never  was  thus  pursued ;  and  it 


'i 


NATURAL    RELIGION    AND    REVELATION.  449 

have  discovered  them  for  himself,  without  the  aid  of  a  teacher  ? 
The  Saviour  came  to  make  known  the  will  of  his  Father,  and 
to  guide  us  into  all  truth ;  —  shall  we  saj  that  his  coming  and 
his  instructions  were  unnecessary,  because  the  truth,  when  once 
revealed  by  him,  shines  by  its  own  light,  and  needs  not  the  aid 
of  a  miracle  for  its  confirmation  ? 

Even  the  jjrinciples  of  morals  not  evolved  hy  reason  alone.  — 
These  considerations  are  applicable,  not  only  to  the  first  truths 
of  religion,  in  the  proper  sense  of  that  term,  but  to  the  first  prin- 
ciples of  ethics,  when  viewed  abstractly,  or  without  reference 
to  the  fact  that  they  are  enforced  by  the  Divine  command. 
Because  moral  laws,  when  first  presented  to  the  reason,  are 
immediately  recognized  as  necessary  and  absolute  truths,  bind- 
ing upon  us  from  their  own  nature,  of  intrinsic  obligation,  and 
proving  themselves,  it  does  not  follow  that  the  unassisted  rea- 
son would  have  evolved  them  in  our  consciousness  in  all  their 
distinctness  and  pm'ity.  A  necessary  truth  is  not  necessarily  an 
axiomatic  truth,  perceived,  recognized,  and  acted  upon  from  the 
dawn  of  our  intellectual  being,  before  our  instruction  by  others 
begins.  For  consider  the  parallel  case  of  pure  mathematics. 
The  whole  of  mathematical  science  is  necessary  truth ;  all  the 
propositions  of  the  geometer  and  the  algebraist  can  be  reduced, 
in  form  at  least,  to  a  proposition  of  identity,  or  an  equation,  — 
to  the  assertion  that  a  =  a.  Do  we  say,  then,  that  the  child 
needs  no  instruction  in  this  branch  of  knowledge,  —  that  he 
may  be  left  to  complete  the  task,  which  even  Pascal  only  com- 
menced, of  making  all  the  discoveries  of  Euclid  over  again,  and 
working  out  the  whole  of  a  Mecanique  Celeste  by  himself,  with- 
out instruction  or  guidance  ?  No  ;  he  is  abandoned  to  his  own 
efforts  only  when  he  has  reached  the  term  of  other  men's  knowl- 


is  scarcely  necessary  to  say,  that,  to  the  generality  of  the  heathen  world 
before  Christianity,  the  facts,  that  there  is  a  God,  in  the  Christian  sense  of 
that  name,  that  man  is  immortal,  and  that  the  present  life  is  a  state  of  prep- 
aration for  the  future,  were  not  matters  of  religious  faith.  Nor  was  there 
any  likelihood  that,  without  Christianity,  they  would  ever  become  so."  — 
Norton's  Tracts  on  Christianity,  pp.  373,  374. 

38* 


450  NATURAL    RELIGION    AND    REVELATION. 

edge.  And  so  it  is  in  morals.  The  human  race,  in  this  respect, 
was  a  dull  and  froward  child,  stumbling  at  the  very  threshold, 
spelling  out  with  difficulty  the  first  elements  of  knowledge,  till  a 
Teacher  appeared  who  unclasped  the  book  containing  the  whole 
science,  and  held  up  the  ideal  of  virtue  and  holiness  to  the  as- 
tonished gaze  of  the  world  ;  —  the  ideal,  do  I  say  ?  —  rather  the 
living  example,  embodied  holiness,  purity,  and  truth.  But  the 
lesson  was  too  much  for  the  comprehension  of  that  age ;  and 
though  the  civilized  world  has  been  studying  it  ever  since,  it 
has  not  yet  climbed  to  the  height  of  that  great  argument.  "  The 
light  shineth  in  darkness,  and  the  darkness  comprehended  it 
not." 

What  is  called  Natural  Religion,  is  rather  the  natural  evidence^ 
or  the  proof  from  the  light  of  nature,  of  the  greatest  part  of  Re- 
vealed Religion.  It  did  not  exist  before  Revelation,  nor  has  it 
ever  existed  since,  as  a  separate  system  of  belief.  Instead  of 
evincing,  by  the  largeness  of  its  scope  and  the  excellence  of  its 
doctrine,  that  a  revelation  was  unnecessary,  it  rather  shows  the 
breadth  and  solidity  of  the  foundation  on  which  Christianity 
rests,  in  that  so  large  a  portion  of  it,  when  once  revealed,  — that 
is,  discovered,  or  made  known,  —  is  found  to  be  in  harmony 
with  the  other  works  of  God,  and  so  demonstrable  by  external 
or  internal  evidence,  without  reference  to  the  extraordinary 
proofs  that  attended  its  promulgation.  We  may  admit,  then, 
with  Bishop  Butler,  that  "  it  is  certain  no  Revelation  would 
have  been  given,  had  the  light  of  nature  been  sufficient  in  such 
a  sense  as  to  render  one  not  wanting  and  useless.  But  no  man, 
in  seriousness  and  simplicity  of  mind,  can  possibly  think  it  so, 
who  considers  the  state  of  religion  in  the  heathen  world  before 
Revelation,  and  its  present  state  in  those  places  which  have 
borrowed  no  light  from  it ;  particularly  the  doubtfulness  of  some 
of  the  greatest  men  concerning  things  of  the  utmost  importance, 
as  well  as  the  natural  inattention  and  ignorance  of  mankind  in 
general.  It  is  impossible  to  say  who  would  have  been  able  to 
reason  out  that  whole  system,  which  we  call  Natural  Religion, 
in  its  genuine  simplicity,  clear  of  superstition  ;  but  there  is  cer- 
tainly no  ground  to  affirm  that  the  generality  could.     If  they 


NATURAL    RELIGION   AND    REVELATION.  451 

could,  there  is  no  sort  of  probability  that  they  would.  Admit- 
ting there  were,  they  would  highly  want  a  standing  admonition 
to  remind  them  of  it  and  inculcate  it  upon  them." 

What  sort  of  religion  existed  previous  to  Christianity.  —  In 
arguing,  that,  in  point  of  fact,  we  are  indebted  to  Christianity 
for  nearly  all  that  is  excellent  in  Natural  ReUgion,  it  is  not  nec- 
essary to  maintain  that  the  human  understanding  could  not,  by 
any  possibility,  in  any  future  time,  work  out  a  natural  system 
of  religious  belief  as  clear  and  satisfactory  as  this.  It  is  enougli 
to  urge,  that  the  power  to  recognize  and  demonstrate  a  truth, 
after  it  has  once  been  made  known  to  us,  is  wholly  different 
from,  and  usually  much  inferiar  to,  the  capacity  of  first  discov- 
ering that  truth ;  and  then  to  n<)tiee  the  fact,  that  the  greet 
truths  of  Natural  Religion  were  not  known  and  acknowledged  at 
the  time  of  the  coming  of  the  Saviour,  A  tyro  in  chemistry  can 
test  by  experiment  the  law  of  definite  proportions  ;  but  the  dis- 
covery of  that  law,  which  had  so  long  escaped  the  researches  of 
the  analyst,  was  due  to  the  sagacity  and  penetration  of  one  of 
the  most  philosophical  minds  of  the  age.*  The  systems  witli 
which  Christianity  had  to  contend  at  its  origin,  and  most  of 
those  which  have  opposed  its  progress  since,  were  not  rational- 
istic or  philosophical  in  character,  —  cold  and  meagre  schemes 


*  "  All  the  truths  of  philosophy,  all  those  belongiug  to  the  higher  de- 
partments of  knowledge,  all  those  connected  with  the  intellectual  and 
moral  progress  of  mankind,  all  those  most  important  to  our  worldly  com- 
fort and  enjoyment,  so  far  as  their  recognition  has  depended  on  man  alone, 
have  required  strenuous  and  long-continued  efforts  of  intellect  to  effect 
their  gradual  development,  their  clear  exposition,  and  their  general  recep- 
tion. These  efforts  have  been  made  by  a  few  individuals,  the  instructors 
of  their  race.  The  processes  of  reasoning  by  which  these  truths  are  estab- 
lished, are  now  gone  over  and  fully  oomprehen^led  by  only  a  compara- 
tively small  portion  of  men.  But  the  benefit  of  these  truths,  the  practical 
result  of  those  investigations,  are  nov/  a  common  property  and  a  common 
blessing.  We  are  wise  through  the  wisdom  of  others.  Human  knowl- 
edge is  the  aggregate  wealth  of  civilized  man,  not  the  peculiar  possession 
of  individuals ;  and  all  may  share  its  advantages,  wliether  or  not  tlioy 
have  contributed  to  it,  or  even  understand  the  means  of  accumulation."  — 
Norton's  Tracts  on  Ckristianity,  pp.  378,  379. 


452  NATURAL    RELIGION   AND    REVELATION. 

of  pure  tbeism  and  rigid  morality ;  they  were  positive,  complex, 
and  ceremonial  institutions  of  polytheism  and  mythology  for  the 
multitude,  and  vague  speculation  or  blank  skepticism  for  the 
thinking  few.  Pure  doctrine  on  isolated  points  of  morality  and 
religious  belief  can  be  gleaned  from  the  writings  of  the  ancient 
philosophers  ;  but  we  find  no  traces  of  a  system  or  general  the- 
ory upon  the  subject,  which  does  not  combine  with  such  doc- 
trine a  large  proportion  of  what  is  puerile,  inconsistent,  and 
untrue  in  opinion,  as  well  as  immoral  and  degrading  in  practice. 
Christianity  has  had  scarcely  less  influence  upon  the  opinions 
of  its  avowed  opponents,  than  of  its  friends.  Within  a  century 
or  two  after  its  origin,  a  striking  change  became  apparent  in 
the  tone  of  pagan  speculation  in  those  countries  where  the  new 
religion  had  been  preached  ;  the  breadth  and  purity  of  its  doc- 
trine had  affected,  as  it  were,  the  moral  atmosphere,  and  many 
inhaled  some  measure  of  its  clearness  and  truth,  who  were 
perhaps  ignorant  of  the  source  whence  they  came.  It  is  hardly 
too  much  to  say,  that  traces  of  this  silent  and  indirect  influence 
may  be  discerned  even  in  the  writings  of  Plutarch  and  Seneca, 
who  were  very  nearly  contemporary  with  the  founder  of  Chris- 
tianity, though  they  may  never  have  heard  his  name.  Three 
centuries  later,  in  the  works,  as  well  as  the  character  and  con- 
duct, of  Julian,  the  ajDostate  emperor,  the  irresistible  directing 
power  of  that  religion  which  he  repudiated  is  strikingly  mani- 
fest. He  could  not  wholly  put  off  the  virtues  or  discard  the 
ideas  which  he  had  learned  from  Christianity,  even  when  his 
fickle  and  vainglorious  spirit  had  carried  him  back  to  the  idola- 
trous belief  of  his  ancestors.  His  clemency  and  moderation,  no 
less  than  the  manner  in  which  he  modified  and  explained  away 
the  more  extravagant  points  in  the  old  pagan  mythology, 
showed  the  effects  of  the  faith  which  he  rejected^ 

Christianity  jirst  revealed  the  paternal  character  of  God. — ^ 
Christianity  was  not  a  mere  republication  of  Natural  Religion, 
but  an  early  pubhcation  of  truths  which  are  so  far  natural  to 
man,  that  though  he  could  gain  but  very  imperfect  glimpses  of 
them  without  the  aid  of  a  teacher,  yet,  when  taught,  they  appear 
both  evident  and  familiar,  so  that  we  can  hardly  persuade  our- 


NATURAL   RELIGION    AND    REVELATION.  453 

selves  that  they  did  not  form  part  of  the  original  furniture  of 
the  soul.  What  doctrine,  for  instance,  appears  more  evident  to 
reason,  or  better  suited  to  form  the  groundwork  of  a  religious 
system,  than  that  of  the  paternal  character  of  God  ?  It  seems 
an  immediate  inference  from  the  belief  that  he  created  all 
things,  and  that  he  governs  all  with  constant  care  and  never- 
failing  love.  Yet  in  what  religion,  or  what  scheme  of  philo- 
sophical belief,  that  existed  previously  to  Christianity,  —  always 
excepting  Judaism,  which,  for  the  purposes  of  this  argument, 
may  be  considered  as  merely  introductory  or  preparatory  to 
Christianity,  —  was  the  Deity  ever  distinctly  represented  under 
this  most  intimate  and  engaging  relation  ?  I  do  not  say  that  the 
epithet  of  Father  was  never  applied  to  any  of  the  deities  in  the 
complex  scheme  of  Grecian  mythology;  Jupiter  was  called 
"  the  father  of  men  and  gods."  But  this  was  merely  one  mode 
of  indicating  his  supremacy,  just  as  a  modern  prince  is  called 
the  father  of  his  j)eople ;  the  idea  was  never  made  the  basis  of 
the  worship  of  Olympian  Jove,  who  was  himself  represented  as 
the  son  of  Saturn,  and  as  born  and  nursed  in  Crete.  If  ever 
the  lame  speculations  of  a  few  philosophical  minds  struggled  up 
to  some  faint  and  imperfect  conception  of  the  Infinite  One,  the 
Creator  and  Ruler  of  the  heavens  and  the  earth,  they  dared  not 
add  the  belief  that  he  watched  over  his  offspring  even  as  an 
earthly  parent  careth  for  his  children.  The  most  sublime  con- 
ception of  him  which  they  obtained  was  the  Epicurean  one,  ac- 
cording to  which,  he  sits  apart  from  creation,  eternal,  supremely 
hapj^y,  and  totally  indifferent  to  the  concerns  of  earth ;  he  was 
to  be  worshipped,  if  at  all,  on  account  of  the  excellence  of  his 
nature,  and  not  because  he  did  either  good  or  harm  to  men. 
Compare  this  with  the  JcAvish  idea  of  Jehovah,  or  with  the 
Christian  conception  of  Our  Father  in  heaven. 

The  earliest  religious  doctrines  of  mankind.  —  In  examining 
the  relation  of  Natural  to  Revealed  Religion,  we  must  distin- 
guish between  what  have  been  called  the  logical  and  the  chrono- 
logical order  of  our  ideas.  Of  course,  we  cannot  be  convinced 
of  the  truth  of  a  revelation,  until  we  have  proof  of  the  existence 
of  that  Being  from  whom  alone  a  revelation  can  proceed.     We 


454  NATURAL    RELIGION    AND    REVELATION. 

must  know,  also,  that  he  possesses  such  attributes  as  are  recon- 
cilable with  the  idea  of  his  manifestation  of  himself  to  men. 
But  this  is  the  order  of  reason,  not  of  time.  Historically  speak- 
ing, whatever  worthy  conceptions  men  possess  of  the  nature  of 
the  Supreme  Being,  and  the  character  of  his  government,  were 
derived  from  revelation  alone.  The  word  of  God  first  makes 
known  the  doctrine,  which  we  then  verify  from  the  light  of 
nature.  We  have  already  seen  that  polytheism  is  the  natural 
commencement  of  man's  religious  faith,  just  as  infancy  is  neces- 
sarily antecedent  to  manhood.  It  is  the  natural  product  of  the 
religious  sentiment,  when  not  guided  by  revelation  nor  dis- 
ciplined by  mental  culture,  seeking  everywhere  for  a  Deity,  and 
finding  one  in  every  forest,  stream,  or  star,  or  in  the  unknown 
cause  of  every  stupendous  event  in  the  physical  universe. 

"  In  proportion,"  says  Hume,  "  as  any  man's  course  of  life  is 
governed  by  accident,  we  always  find  that  he  increases  in  super- 
stition, as  may  particularly  be  observed  of  gamesters  and  sailors, 
who,  though  of  all  mankind  the  least  capable  of  serious  reflec- 
tion, abound  most  in  frivolous  and  superstitious  apprehensions. 
All  human  life,  especially  before  the  institution  of  order  and 
good  government,  being  subject  to  fortuitous  accidents,  it  is 
natural  that  superstition  should  prevail  everywhere  in  barbarous 
ages,  and  put  men  on  the  most  earnest  inquiry  concerning  those 
invisible  powers  who  dispose  of  their  happiness  or  misery.  Ig- 
norant of  astronomy  and  the  anatomy  of  plants  and  animals 
and  too  little  curious  to  observe  the  admirable  adjustment  of 
final  causes,  they  remain  still  unacquainted  with  a  First  and 
Supreme  Creator,  and  with  that  infinitely  Perfect  Spirit,  who 
alone,  by  his  almighty  will,  bestowed  order  on  the  whole  frame 
of  nature.  Such  a  magnificent  idea  is  too  big  for  their  narrow 
conceptions,  which  can  neither  observe  the  beauty  of  the  work, 
nor  comprehend  the  grandeur  of  its  Author.  They  suppose 
their  deities,  however  potent  and  invisible,  to  be  nothing  but  a 
species  of  human  creatures,  perhaps  raised  from  among  man- 
kind, and  retaining  all  human  passions  and  appetites,  together 
with  corporeal  limbs  and  organs." 

Hebrew     contrasted    with    pagan    theology,  —  Accordingly, 


NATURAL   RELIGION   AND    REVELATION.  455 

throughout  the  night  of  ages  that  preceded  modern  civilization, 
polytheism  was  the  prevailing  faith  of  mankind,  as  it  is  still  of 
those  tribes  and  races  upon  Vviiom  the  light  of  Christianity  has 
not  dawned.  The  classic  nations  of  antiquity  erected  altars  and 
temples  to  that  crowd  of  vindictive  and  obscene  gods  and  god- 
desses, whom  all  the  glories  of  Grecian  poetry  and  art  could 
not  ennoble,  nor  all  the  refinements  of  modern  speculation  alle- 
gorize into  decency.  Egypt  bowed  down  before  its  deified 
dogs,  cats,  and  bulls.  The  Magians  worshipped  fire,  or  divided 
their  homage  between  Oromasdes  and  Arimanes,  which  are  but 
synonymes  for  the  Good  Spirit  and  the  Evil  One.  In  India, 
the  dreamy  and  meditative  spirit  of  the  people  forged  monstrous 
and  incoherent  schemes  of  theology  and  cosmogony,  which  can 
be  fitly  characterized  only  in  the  language  of  Hume,  as  "  the 
plaj'ful  whimsies  of  monkeys  in  human  shape,"  In  this  long 
and  dreary  night,  one  race  alone  —  and  that  by  no  means  the 
one  most  distinguished  for  refinement,  learning,  or  acuteness,  — 
upheld  the  torch  of  a  spiritual  faith  and  a  belief  in  the  one  true 
God.  The  Hebrew  theology  appears  in  those  remote  ages, 
amid  the  otherwise  universal  prevalence  of  the  grossest  idolatry, 
as  a  miraculous  light  "  streaking  the  darkness  radiantly."  I  do 
not  need  here  to  insist  upon  any  thing  in  the  literature  or  the 
history  of  this  wonderful  people,  which  has  been  called  into 
doubt  by  the  refinements  of  modern  skepticism.  I  throw  over- 
board for  the  present  to  the  infidel  the  Book  of  Genesis,  and  all 
the  contested  points  in  the  history  of  the  Jews.  I  look  only  to 
the  Psalms,  which,  as  products  of  the  Hebrew  mind,  of  a  very 
high  antiquity,  whether  written  by  David  or  not,  no  unbeliever 
has  ever  thought  of  questioning.  Contrast  their  pure  and  sub- 
lime monotheism  with  the  theogony  of  Homer  and  Hesiod,  with 
the  popular  gods  of  Egypt  and  India;  and  account  for  it,  if  you 
can,  consistently  with  the  laws  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  his- 
tory of  human  progress  in  civilization,  philosophy,  and  relig- 
ion, without  the  aid  of  immediate  inspiration  or  an  antecedent 
Revelation.  We  may  consider  the  appearance  of  these  sacred 
poems  —  in  order  to  take  nothing  for  granted  which  is  liable  to 
dispute  —  as  a  phenomenon  in  history,  with  a  date  as  unsettled, 


456  NATURAL   RELIGION   AND   REVELATION. 

if  you  will,  as  that  of  the  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  but  certainly  noS 
more  so,  —  and  surely  of  an  antiquity  not  much  inferior  to  that 
of  these  two  renowned  products  of  the  Greek  intellect.  Their 
genuineness,  that  is,  their  exclusively  Hebrew  origin  and  char- 
acter, is  as  unquestionable  as  the  Greek  origin  of  the  two  epics 
that  record  the  wrath  of  Achilles  and  the  wanderings  of  Ulysses. 
To  make  the  comparison  more  particular,  take  only  the  nine- 
teenth Psalm,  from  its  sublime  exordium,  —  "  The  heavens  de- 
clare the  glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament  showeth  his  handy- 
work," —  down  to  the  pure  and  refined  morality  of  its  close, — 
"  Cleanse  thou  me  from  secret  faults ;  keep  back  thy  servant 
also  from  presumptuous  sins,  let  them  have  no  dominion  over 
me  ;  but  let  the  words  of  my  mouth  and  the  meditations  of  my 
heart  be  acceptable  in  thy  sight,  O  Lord,  my  strength  and  my 
redeemer."  Compare  such  conceptions  of  the  nature  of  the 
Supreme  Being,  and  of  the  conduct  which  he  requires  of  his 
creatures,  with  the  purest  and  loftiest  ideas  upon  the  subject 
which  all  pagan  antiquity  can  offer ;  and  then  say,  if  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Psalms  can  be  referred  to  the  unaided  intellect  of 
the  Jews  at  that  early  period. 

The  Jews  unfitted  to  discover  moral  and  religious  truth  for 
themselves.  —  All  that  we  know  of  the  history  and  character  of 
this  strange  people  is  calculated  to  increase  our  wonder  at  the 
phenomenon.  Their  intellect  was  not  comparable  with  that  of 
the  Greeks  for  quickness,  sagacity,  and  refinement ;  other  Ori^ 
ental  nations  equalled,  if  they  did  not  surpass,  them  in  depth 
and  seriousness  of  thought.  They  were  feeble  in  war,  and  not 
distinguished  in  commerce  or  the  arts  of  peace ;  they  were 
ignorant  and  perverse,  restless  and  wandering  in  their  inclina- 
tions, and  prone  to  idolatry.  Whence  came  their  sacred  books, 
their  Psalmists  and  then'  Prophets  ?  Their  existence,  unless 
we  admit  the  reality  of  a  special  Revelation,  the  fruits  of  which 
w^ere  for  a  time  confined  to  this  people,  is  the  most  inexplicable 
problem  in  history. 

It  is  certain  then,  that  the  earliest  profession  upon  earth  of 
pure  doctrine  in  religion,  was  not  the  fruit  of  human  speculation 
and  research  in  the  department  of  what  is  called  Natural  The- 


NATURAL    RELIGION   AND    REVELATION.  457 

ology.  Neither  at  the  period  to  which  their  sacred  writin«y3 
belong,  nor  at  any  other,  was  the  Jewish  intellect  capable  of 
proving,  from  the  light  of  nature  alone,  the  dogmas  which  it 
held  and  taught.  There  are  no  traces  preserved  of  any  attempts 
made  by  them  in  this  direction.  Theirs  was  not  an  active, 
curious,  and  investigating  spirit,  for  ever  pondering  over  the 
problems  presented  by  God,  man,  and  the  universe.  They 
were  mere  children  in  matters  of  speculation,  the  holders  of  a 
doctrine  which  they  always  very  imperfectly  comprehended, 
but  which  they  held  with  an  implicit  and  unreasoning  faith,  or 
cast  aside  under  the  force  of  temptation,  but  not  from  a  skepti- 
cal turn  of  mind.  The  tone  adopted  by  their  prophets  and  re- 
ligious teachers  was  mandatory  and  authoritative,  not  argumen- 
tative or  philosophical.  They  asserted,  commanded,  or  threat- 
ened ;  they  did  not  stop  to  prove,  for  the  people  were  incapable 
of  understanding.  The  refinements  of  speculation  and  the  sub- 
tilties  of  logic  were  for  a  different  race  or  a  subsequent  age. 
The  Jews  appear  throughout  their  history  in  a  condition  of 
tutelage  ;  they  were  led  by  the  hand  like  children,  ai;id  never 
aspired  to  take  the  lead  for  themselves.  They  were  not  an 
enterprising,  not  a  conquering  or  a  proselyting  people  ;  though 
impatient  of  foreign  dominion,  they  did  not  seek  to  impose  their 
yoke  upon  others.  Who  ever  heard  of  a  Jew  attempting  to 
make  converts  to  Judaism,  or  even  to  give  a  reason  for  the  faith 
that  was  in  him,  other  than  that  it  was  the  patrimony  of  his 
nation,  and  that  it  came  down  from  heaven?  With  all  their 
stubbornness  and  perversity,  the  law  and  the  doctrine  which 
they  professed  during  so  many  ages,  modified  their  whole  being, 
and  moulded  their  national  character.  The  religion  formed 
the  people,  the  people  were  incapable  of  forming  the  religion ; 
it  was  imparted  to  them,  for  they  could  not  create  it.  Hence 
the  fine  remark  of  Pascal :  "  I  find  no  reason  to  doubt  the  truth 
of  the  Hebrew  Scripture ;  for  there  is  a  great  difference  be- 
tween a  book  which  an  individual  makes  and  throws  among  a 
people,  and  a  book  which  of  itself  makes  a  people.  We  must 
acknowledge  that  the  book  is  at  least  as  old  as  the  nation." 
And  again,  — "  This  race  is  remarkable  not  only  for  its  an- 

39 


458  NATLUAL    IIELIGIOX    AND    REVELATION. 

tiquity ;  it  is  singular  also  for  its  duration,  for  it  has  come  down 
even  to  the  present  day.  While  the  nations  of  Greece  and 
Italy,  Sparta,  Athens,  and  Rome,  which  began  long  afterwards, 
ended  long  ago,  these  alone  continue  to  exist ;  and  in  spite  of 
the  efforts  of  so  many  powerful  monarchs,  who  have  a  hundred 
times  undertaken  to  destroy  them,  as  history  testifies,  and  as  it 
is  easy  to  believe  from  the  natural  course  of  events,  they  have 
been  preserved,  a  separate  and  peculiar  people,  through  the 
long  lapse  of  ages ;  coming  down  from  the  earliest  period  to  the 
latest,  their  history  comprises  within  itself  all  other  histories." 

The  connection  of  Hebrew  with  Christian  doctrine.  —  I  have 
dwelt  thus  long  upon  the  characteristics  of  this  remarkable  race, 
because  we  find  in  them  the  single  instance  which  human  his- 
tory affords,  of  a  people  professedly  formed  and  guided  from  its 
origin  by  special  Revelation,  while  all  the  other  nations  of  the 
earth  have  attempted  to  find  their  way  by  the  light  of  nature. 
Their  history,  also,  is  specially  interesting  to  us ;  for,  as  Chris- 
tians, we  are  the  spiritual  offspring  of  the  Jews,  though  Chris- 
tian nations  have  been  sorely  reluctant  to  acknowledge  the  fact. 
Ours,  also,  are  Moses  and  the  prophets,  —  ours  are  Samuel  and 
David,  Isaiah  and  Ezekiel.  The  light  in  the  midst  of  which 
we  live,  is  but  a  rekindUng  and  revivifying  of  that  which  ap- 
peared to  the  great  Hebrew  lawgiver  in  the  burning  bush,  and 
which  shone  from  the  top  of  Sinai ;  and  though  the  brightness 
of  the  former  is  lost  in  the  glory  of  the  latter  dispensation,  our 
conduct  is  still  regulated  by  the  decalogue  which  formed  the 
heart  of  the  Hebrew  law.  This  is  striking  evidence  of  the 
original  purity  and  excellence  of  that  law ;  it  has  stood  the  test 
of  three  thousand  years.  Skepticism  and  wickedness,  the  rivaky 
of  false  religions  and  the  refinements  of  a  vain  philosophy,  have 
not  prevailed  against  it.  Of  what  other  scheme  of  ethical  and 
religious  doctrine^  having  its  origin  either  in  Egypt,  India, 
Greece,  or  Rome,  can  the  like  he  said,  with  the  addition  that  it 
can  stand  the  scrutiny  of  this  skeptical  and  curious  age,  with  all 
its  advantages  of  learning  and  civilization  ?  Wliat  other  system 
of  popular  belief,  held  and  practised  for  centuries  by  a  whole 
nation,  and  thus  clearly  distinguishable  from  the  speculations  of 


NATURAL    RELIGION   AND    REVELATION.  459 

an  individual,  and  even  from  tlie  dogmas  of  a  sect,  has  lived  so 
long  and  triumphs  still  ? 

Characteristics  of  the  Jewish  race.  —  We  have  the  Jews 
among  us  yet,  a  distinct  race,  though  they  are  no  longer  a 
separate  nation ;  for  the  last  few  centuries  of  their  history,  they 
have  been  the  money-changers  and  the  peddlers  of  the  civilized 
world.  How  has  the  glory  departed  from  Zion,  and  the  sceptre 
from  Judah !  But  they  are  the  same  people  still,  alike  restless 
in  temperament  and  obstinate  in  opinion,  as  of  old.  We  can 
see  in  them  all  the  leading  characteristics  of  their  ancestors,  — 
a  stiffnecked  race,  who  murmured  even  when  the  heavens  were 
opened  to  them,  and  worshipped  the  golden  calf,  even  at  the 
foot  of  the  mount  whence  the  God  of  their  fathers  was  speak- 
ing to  them  in  thunder.  We  can  judge  how  likely  it  is,  that 
such  a  people  should  have  invented,  or  discovered  by  the  exer- 
cise of  their  own  reason,  the  purest  system  of  morality  and 
religion  that  the  world  had  ever  known  before  the  promulgation 
of  Christianity,  and  have  held  to  it  for  centuries,  amid  national 
distress  and  subjugation,  and  the  sufferings  of  exile,  while  around 
them  the  most  enlightened  nations  of  the  earth  were  sunk  in  the 
grossest  idolatry.  To  the  mere  student  of  social  and  political 
science,  who  looks  at  history  without  reference  to  its  bearing 
upon  the  great  topic  of  God's  moral  government  of  mankind, 
the  Jews  are  a  mysterious  race,  and  their  fortunes  are  inexpli- 
cable. Their  history  is  the  strangest  of  any  in  the  annals  of 
the  world. 

How  we  jirst  obtain  our  religious  belief.  —  I  have  said,  that 
the  Jews  received  like  children  a  faith  which  they  imperfectly 
comprehended,  and  to  which,  consequently,  in  the  earlier  period, 
they  often  faltered  in  their  allegiance.  A  light  from  heaven 
shone  about  them,  and  tliey  walked  in  the  midst  of  it,  the  figures 
of  their  lawgivers  and  prophets  appearing  glorified  in  that 
supernatural  splendor ;  but  the  light  which  should  have  been  in 
them  was  darkness.  They  could  not  have  discovered,  they 
could  not  prove,  they  could  hardly  understand,  the  pure  and 
lofty  doctrines  which  they  professed.  We  are  too  apt  to  forget, 
that  even  now,  the  greater  part  of  mankind,  including  the  bulk 


460  NATURAL    RELIGION    AND    REVELATION. 

of  civilized  nations,  receive  their  religious  system  in  the  same 
manner.  Even  at  the  present  day,  in  enlightened  and  Christian 
countries,  where  curiosity  is  eager  and  speculation  is  rife,  men 
do  not  study  out  their  religion  from  the  light  of  nature ;  they 
are  taught  it ;  they  receive  it  from  their  fathers'  hands,  and  at 
their  mothers'  knees.  So  it  must  always  be,  with  a  system  of 
faith  that  prevails  among  a  wdiole  people,  as  distinguished  from 
the  speculative  dogmas  or  peculiarities  of  opinion  which  are  the 
property  of  a  few  studious  and  inquiring  minds.  If  we  except 
the  instances  of  conversion  in  mature  years  from  one  faith  to 
another,  which  are  so  few  in  number  as  to  be  insignificant,  it 
may  be  said  that  religious  belief  is  always  received  as  a  revela- 
tion, —  a  traditional  or  historical  one,  it  is  true,  —  but  never  as 
a  natural  science.  Observe,  however,  that  I  am  now  speaking 
only  of  those  broad  features  which  distinguish  one  religion  from 
another,  and  not  of  the  minor  points  of  doctrine  which  divide 
sects  and  individuals ;  I  refer  to  Christianity  as  distinguished 
from  Mohammedanism,  or  Judaism,  or  gross  idolatry. 

When  ive  begin  to  study  Natural  Religion.  —  The  faith  which 
is  thus  originally  implanted  in  the  soul  may  be  modified,  en- 
larged, confirmed,  or  shaken  off,  by  the  fruits  .of  subsequent  in- 
quiry and  reflection.  But  these  later  studies  never  begin  at  the 
original  starting-point  of  human  investigation ;  we  never  come 
to  them  without  bias ;  w^e  cannot  wholly  discharge  from  our 
minds  the  results  of  early  instruction.  We  do  not  proceed  from 
Natural  Religion  to  Revealed,  from  deism  to  Christianity, 
thouGfli  this  is  the  order  of  reason  and  los^ic  in  the  abstract  con- 
sideration  of  the  subject;  but  in  the  order  of  time,  or  the 
natural  succession,  -we  proceed  from  Christianity  to  the  study 
of  Natural  Religion ;  —  that  is,  after  the  spirit  of  curiosity,  and 
perhaps  of  doubt,  is  excited,  we  endeavor  to  find  what  evidence 
the  light  of  'nature  affords  as  to  the  truth  of  those  doctrines  in 
which  we  have  been  instructed  from  the  beginning,  "  even  as 
they  delivered  them  unto  us  which  from  the  beginning  were 
eye-witnesses  and  ministers  of  the  word."  This  evidence,  for 
the  whole  of  the  doctrine  to  which  such  a  test  can  be  applied,  is 
found  to  be  abundant  and  satisfactory ;  the  light  from  God's 


NATURAL    RELIGION    AND    REVELATION.  461 

word,  and  that  which  comes  from  his  works  and  ways  in  the 
material  and  moral  universe,  are  found  to  harmonize  and  mingle 
into  one.  So  sure  is  the  testimony  from  the  latter  source,  that 
these  doctrines  are  seen  to  be  capable  of  standing  by  themselves, 
and  need  not  to  be  corroborated  by  Revelation.  The  deist  sub- 
sequently unites  them  into  what  is  called  the  Religion  of  Nature, 
and  then  pretends  that  Revelation  cannot  be  true  because  it  was 
not  needed,  since  these  doctrines  are  sufficient  for  life  and  prac- 
tice ;  in  his  language,  all  that  is  essential  in  Christianity  is  as 
old  as  the  creation.  It  may  be  demonstrated,  he  afhi-ms,  by 
human  reason ;  what  need,  therefore,  is  there  of  a  miracle  to 
support  it  ?  Just  as  reasonably  might  he  pretend,  because  a 
school-boy  can  now  demonstrate  a  proposition  which  it  cost  a 
Newton  yeai's  of  anxious  and  patient  thought  to  discover,  that 
the  author  of  the  Principia  did  nothing  for  the  advancement  of 
science,  or  to  increase  our  knowledge  of  the  mechanism  of  the 
universe.  He  finds  religion  in  nature,  only  because  Christianity 
has  taught  him  where  to  look  for  it.  The  proof  of  this  is,  that 
the  greatest  philosophers  and  the  best  men  of  heathen  antiquity 
anxiously  strove  to  discover  these  truths,  which  now  seem  to  us 
so  familiar  and  so  cogent,  but  were  not  able.  "  For  I  tell  you, 
that  many  prophets  and  kings  have  desired  to  see  those  things 
which  ye  see,  and  have  not  seen  them ;  and  to  hear  those  tilings 
which  ye  hear,  and  have  not  heard  them."  ^ 

It  is  just  as  true,  then,  in  the  natural  order  of  our  ideas,  or 
as  a  matter-of-fact,  that  Natural  Religion  depends  upon  Revela- 
tion, as  it  is  that,  in  the  order  of  logic.  Revelation  depends  upon 
Natural  Religion ;  for  the  latter,  in  its  full  breadth,  purity,  and 
excellence,  never  has  existed  without  a  Revelation,  and  we  have 
no  good  reason  to  believe  that  it  ever  would  have  arisen  inde- 
pendently of  such  aid,  notwithstanding  the  clearness  of  its 
proofs,  as  they  shine  to  our  eyes  under  the  reflected  light  of 
Chi'istianity.  The  one  is  not  so  much  a  complement  of  the 
other,  or  a  substitute  for  it,  as  a  proof  and  a  corroboration  of 
that  other.  They  are  not  so  much  parts  of  one  whole,  as  differ- 
ent modes  of  looking  at  the  same  truth,  though  from  one  point 
of  view  we  see  more  than  from  the  other.     Call  it  sunlight  or 

39* 


462  NATURAL    RELIGION    AND    REVELATION. 

moonlight,  tlie  illumination  still  comes  originally  from  the  same 
fountain  of  light  in  the  heavens.  The  doctrine,  that  all  things 
are  moved  directly  by  the  finger  of  God,  who  governs  all  events, 
both  in  the  material  and  the  moral  universe,  with  a  moral  pur- 
pose, rests,  as  we  have  seen,  upon  sufficient  evidence,  when 
examined  by  the  light  of  nature  alone ;  but  will  any  one  say, 
that  your  minds  were  not  prepared  for  the  reception  of  this  truth 
by  your  previously  acquired  belief,  that  the  powers  and  agencies 
of  nature,  as  they  are  termed,  were  subject  to  the  voice  of  Jesus 
of  Nazareth?  And  conversely,  does  not  his  repeated  declara- 
tion, that  the  care  of  his  Father  in  heaven  extends  even  to  the 
minutest  objects  and  events,  for  "  the  very  hairs  of  your  head 
are  all  numbered,"  render  the  natural  proofs  of  this  doctrine 
more  cogent  and  acceptable  ?  Natural  and  Revealed  Religion, 
then,  mutually  depend  upon  and  strengthen  each  other. 

But  Revelation  goes  heyond  Natural  Religion.  —  But  the  latter 
adds  something  to  our  knowledge ;  besides  clearing  up  the  pros- 
pect, it  widens  the  view.  It  dissipates  the  darkness  which  the 
natural  eye  cannot  penetrate ;  for  it  opens  the  portals  of  the 
tomb,  and  exposes  to  mortal  vision  the  endless  life  that  lies 
beyond.  Two  tliiyigs  are  necessary  for  right  conduct,  —  to  know 
what  our  duty  is,  arid  to  he  persuaded  to  act  in  conformity  to  it. 
The  former  is  fully  provided  for  by  the  present  constitution  of 
things.  The  law  is  written  upon  the  heart  in  characters  that 
we  cannot  mistake,  and  its  authority  is  proclaimed  in  the  depths 
of  our  consciousness  by  a  voice  to  which  we  must  listen.  Still, 
obedience  is  voluntary,  temptalions  abound,  and  the  appetites 
which  stir  this  mortal  frame,  with  the  passions  that  keep  the 
spirit  in  activity,  wage  a  fearful  war  with  the  requisitions  of 
conscience.  We  need  helps  to  ohedience ;  the  inducements  to 
right  conduct  must  be  strengthened  by  a  fuller  view  of  the  con- 
sequences of  sin.  Transgression,  indeed,  brings  its  own  bitter 
fruits  along  with  it,  even  in  this  world ;  but  our  existence  here 
is  but  a  span,  and  the  soul  which  has  disregarded  the  authority 
of  the  law,  may  be  indifferent  also  to  its  terrors,  if  our  life  is  to 
terminate  at  the  grave.  But  open  the  view  beyond  it,  and  let 
sin  be  seen  bearing  its  own  burden  through  an  endless  futurity, 


THE    PROOF    OF    REVELATION.  463 

and  even  tlie  most  frivolous  and  the  most  perverse  will  be  in- 
duced to  pause  and  reflect.  Nothing  is  revealed  in  this  respect 
for  the  mere  gratification  of  a  vain  curiosity.  We  know  not 
how  we  shall  be  employed,  with  what  bodies  we  shall  be  clothed,* 
or  how  far  the  relations  in  which  we  stand  to  each  other  in  this 
life  will  be  preserved.  But  we  do  know,  since  we  have  received 
assurance  of  it  from  Him  who  spake  as  never  man  spake,  that 
the  same  righteous  Grod  presides  over  both  states  of  being,  and 
will  administer  that  which  is  to  come  upon  the  same  principles 
of  justice,  mercy,  and  love,  which  appear  in  his  government  of 
this  world's  affairs.  Then,  to  our  eyes,  the  scheme  of  his  provi- 
dence, which  is  but  imperfectly  seen  and  understood  here,  shall 
be  visible  as  a  whole,  and  we  shall  know  even  as  we  are  known. 


CHAPTER     XI. 

THE    NATURE    OF    THE    EVIDENCE    OF    A   REVEALED   RELIGION. 

Summai'y  of  the  last  chapter.  —  The  relation  of  Natural  to 
/Revealed  Religion  was  the  subject  of  the  last  chapter.  I  en- 
deavored to  show,  that  the  latter  was  not  a  mere  republication 
of  the  former ;  for,  besides  adding  to  it  the  certain  knowledge 
of  _a. future  life,  —  a  fact  of  greater  interest  to  human  beings 
than  any  other  truth  whatever,  the  being  of  a  God  alone  ex- 
cepted,—  it  first  announced  those  great  doctrines  which  are  now 
include^d,  unAer. the  title  of  Natural  Religion,  and  which  human 
reason  is  competent  to  prove,  though  it  was  not  competent  to 
discover.  What  now  seems  to  us  both  obvious  and  demonstra- 
ble, has  often  baffled  the  ingenuity  and  research  of  enlightened 
nations  for  centuries,  before  it  was  first  made  known  or  generally 
recognized  as   a  principle   in  science,  or  a  rule  of  conduct. 


464  THE    PROOF    OF    REVELATION. 

I  ^^Natural  Religion  coincides,  as  far  as  it  goes,  with  the  doctrines 
I  of  Revelation ;  it  comprises  that  portion  —  far  the  larger  por- 
1  lion  —  of  these  doctrines,  which  are  susceptible  of  proof  from 
I  the  light  of  reason  and  nature,  without  appealing  to  the  author- 
*  ity  of  the  Author  of  the  revelation.  Instead  of  Natural  Re- 
'ligion,  then,  it  ought  to  be  called  the  natural  evidence,  or  proof 
from  the  light  of  nature,  of  the  greater  part  of  Revealed  Re- 
ligion. The  instance  of  mathematical  science  is  enough  to 
show,  that  truths  of  great  comprehensiveness  and  importance, 
which  are  necessary  or  demonstrable,  which,  in  fact,  are  reduci- 
ble to  identical  propositions,  may  still  be  so  recondite  and  diffi- 
cult of  discovery,  that  the  finest  minds  may  be  successively 
employed  for  ages  in  laborious  study  before  they  can  be  ascer- 
tained and  established.  And  even  now,  these  truths  are  taught 
to  the  learner ;  that  is,  they  are  revealed  to  him  as  antecedent 
discoveries,  and  he  is  not  left  slowly  to  grope  his  own  way  to- 
wards them  in  the  painful  path  of  original  investigation.  When 
once  revealed,  the  school-boy  can  demonstrate  them. 

Applying  these  general  remarks  to  our  particular  subject,  I 
remarked  that  Polytheism  is  Natural  Religion  ;  that  is,  Polythe- 
ism is  the  first  and  natural  product  of  the  religious  sentiment 
and  the  unenlightened  intellect.  Reason  shows  that  this  is  the 
probable  result ;  history  proves  that  it  was  the  actual  result. 
The  doctrine  of  the  existence  of  one  God,  the  Creator  and 
righteous  Governor  of  heaven  and  earth,  first  had  place  in  the 
religious  system  of  the  Jews,  a  people  so  peculiar  in  character, 
so  inferior  in  intellectual  power  and  cultivation  to  the  nations 
which  surrounded  them,  and  which  were  sunk  in  polytheism  and 
idolatry,  that  their  belief  in  monotheism  is  inexplicable,  unless 
we  admit  the  truth  of  their  history,  which  declares  that  it  was 
the  fruit  of  revelation.  The  contrast  between  the  Decalogue 
and  the  Psalms,  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  poems  of  Plomer  and 
Hesiod,  with  the  sculptured  gods  of  Egyj)t  and  India,  on  the 
other,  is  so  glaring  and  marvellous,  that  no  hypothesis  but  that 
of  a  special  interposition  of  God  in  the  affairs  of  the  Jews  will 
solve  the  mystery.  The  Jews  were  emphatically  a  God-guided 
people ;  their  character,  their  opinions,  their  history,  their  pres- 


THE    PROOF    OF    REVELATION.  465 

ent  condition,  arc  inexplicable  facts,  when  not  viewed  in  their 
religious  aspect,  and  with  the  eye  of  faith.  They  are,  in  some 
sort,  the  living  witnesses  of  the  miracles  that  are  recorded  of 
their  nation.     Tliey  were   always  children  in  matters   of  faith, 

—  wayward  and  stubborn  children,  too,  —  slow  to  learn  and 
quick  to  forget.  They  discovered  nothing. for  themselves;  they 
were  not  given  to  speculation,  either  in  philosophy,  theology,  or 
ethics.  But  the  vital  features  of  their  religion  have  stood  the 
test  of  three  thousand  years ;  and  they  triumph  still,  for  they 
belong  to  Christianity.  And  the  bulk  of  mankind  are  still,  what 
the  Jews  were,  children  in  matters  of  faith.  They  are  not 
capable  of  working  out  for  themselves  a  scheme  of  Natural  Re- 
ligion ;  with  them,  the  choice  lies  between  Revealed  Religion, 
skepticism,  and  idolatry. 

Antecedent  prohability  of  a  Revelation.  —  There  is  no  antece- 
dent presumption  against  Christianity,  then,  on  the  ground  that 
a  Revelation  is  not  needed.  Reasoning  upon  the  nature  of  the 
case  shows,  what  is  also  demonstrated  by  the  history  of  man- 
kind, that  without  miraculous  interposition  and  special  instruc- 
tion, the  human  race,  even  under  the  most  favorable  circum- 
stances, gives  itself  up  to  false  doctrines,  false  gods,  corrupt 
morals,  and  a  sinful  and  unhappy  life.  The  antecedent  pre- 
sumption, therefore,  runs  the  other  way ;  it  is  in  favor  of  a  rev- 
elation. If  the  Deity  is  infinitely  benevolent,  we  must  expect 
that  he  wall  interpose  to  rescue  man  from  degradation  and  sin, 

—  to  put  him  upon  the  right  path,  and  then  leave  him  to  follow 
it  or  not,  at  his  own  good  pleasure.  It  is  no  more  incredible, 
that  what  are  called  the  laws  of  nature  should  be  interrupted  for 
the  instruction  of  man,  than  that  they  should  be  first  established 
and  generally  maintained,  for  his  instruction.  The  latter  we 
have  proved  to  be  the  case  by  irrefragable  arguments  drawn 
from  the  light  of  nature ;  we  look,  then,  with  equal  confidence, 
for  the  former  supposition  to  be  realized.  If  the  Deity  is 
always  present  in  the  material  universe,  vivifying,  guiding,  and 
moving  all,  we  look  also  for  his  constant  presence  in  his  moral 
creation,  to  warn,  to  teach,  and  to  govern  mankind.  And  as 
the  history  of  the  brute  earth,  through  its  geological  epochs, 


466  THE   PROOF    OF   REVELATION. 

shows  that  the  preserving  agency,  though  uniform,  is  not  me- 
chanical  or  blind  in  its  operation,  but  that  one  mode  of  action 
is,  after  long  intervals,  substituted  for  another,  —  the  continu- 
ance of  animal  and  vegetable  species  in  the  natural  way  being 
interrupted  after  a  given  time,  the  old  species  destroyed,  and 
new  races,  new  orders  of  being,  introduced,  —  so  we  must  ex- 
pect that  the  history  of  man,  or  the  annals  of  the  moral  universe, 
will  show  similar  periodic  exertions  of  Divine  power  and  wis- 
dom ;  the  old  mode  of  action,  after  a  certain  period,  giving  place 
to  a  new  one,  and  the  ancient  dispensation  being  replaced  by 
another,  which,  for  this  later  time  and  for  the  altered  circum- 
stances of  the  case,  is  a  more  perfect  manifestation  of  Divine 
holiness  and  love. 

The  creation  of  man  himself,  his  first  establishment  upon  the 
earth,  forms  one  of  these  transition  epochs,  from  which  dates  a 
new  era  in  the  history  of  God's  providence.  There  is  hardly  a 
single  fact  in  all  natural  science  now  more  conclusively  proved, 
than  the  comj^aratively  recent  introduction  of  human  beings 
upon  this  globe,  anciently  tenanted  only  by  plants  and  brutes, 
as  it  was  at  a  still  earlier  day  by  plants  alone ;  the  old  skeptical 
objection  upon  this  head,  that  the  human  race,  for  aught  we 
know,  has  been  perpetuated  through  an  endless  series  of  genera- 
tions, has  been  entirely  refuted  by  the  recent  discoveries  of 
geologists.  What  a  signal  and  momentous  interruption  was 
here,  of  the  former  course  of  nature  and  the  old  dominion  of 
physical  law  !  What  miracle  of  later  times  equals  in  importance 
that  through  which  the  reign  of  moral  law  began,  and  this 
world,  till  then  a  theatre  for  the  display  only  of  the  natural  at- 
tributes, was  fitted  to  mirror  also  the  moral  perfections  of  the 
Infinite  One  ? 

Antecedent  prohahility  of  the  revelation  to  the  Jews.  —  From 
the  contemplation  of  this  grand  event,  we  pass,  by  a  natural  and 
easy  transition,  to  the  first  recorded  intervention  of  the  Deity 
in  the  affairs  of  men,  or  rather  to  the  first  striking  change  in  his 
providence,  made  for  the  purpose  of  showing  that  he  is  always 
with  them,  —  to  the  revelation  to  the  Jews.  In  one  sense,  then, 
it  is  no  strange  and  inexplicable  occurrence,  when  our  eyes  are 


THE   PROOF    OF   REVELATION.  467 

first  greeted  by  that  mysterious  light  which  we  have  traced 
shining  in  the  midst  of  surrounding  darkness  ;  we  were  prepared 
for  it  by  the  antecedent  history  of  the  world,  and  by  our  ideas 
of  the  manner  in  which  God  governs  the  universe  that  he  has 
made.  The  law  given  to  Moses  is  but  another  step  in  the  series, 
in  which  were  previously  recorded  the  successive  introductions 
of  vegetable,  animal,  and  human  life.  Vast  intervals  of  time, 
according  to  our  conceptions,  separate  these  grand  epochs  from 
each  other ;  but  these  are  as  nothing  with  Him  in  whose  sight  a 
thousand  years  are  but  as  one  day.  During  these  intervals, 
Avhat  we  call  the  laws  of  nature  hold  without  break ;  but  if  they 
are  rightly  considered  in  the  light  in  which  I  have  attempted  to 
present  them,  as  the  constant  effects  of  the  Deity's  immediate 
action,  these  laws  themselves  prepare  our  minds  for  their  own 
interruption  whenever  an  emergency  may  arise ;  because  they 
are  subservient  to  the  same  purpose  which  such  an  interruption 
is  designed  for,  —  namely,  the  education  and  the  moral  improve- 
ment of  the  human  race. 

What  IS  the  proper  evidence  of  a  revelation.  —  With  this  very 
brief  view  of  the  antecedent  probability  of  a  revelation,  I  pass 
to  the  only  remaining  topic,  —  the  nature  of  the  evidence  to  be 
required  in  its  support.  ^  First,  then,  neither  to  the  contem- j 
poraries  of  the  revelation,  nor  to  those  who  come  after  it,  must/ 
|the  evidence  in  its   favor  be  of  that  direct  and  overpowering: 
character   which   woidd   compel  assent  and  enforce   obedienceS 
(This  rule  results  from  the  very  nature  of  moral  governmentj 
jvhich  excludes  the  idea  of  compulsion.    Tf  the  heavens  should 
be  rolled  together  like  a  scroll,  and  the  earth  should  give  up  its 
dead,  all  in  direct  attestation  of  a  call  to  repentance,  and  an 
eternity  of  reward  or  punishment  should  be  revealed  as  the  im- 
mediate consequence  of  compliance  or  neglect,  then  there  would 
be  no  merit  in  ohedience,  and  the  whole  object  of  the  revelation, 
the  moral  improvement  of  man,  would  be  frustrated.     Even  the 
near  and  certain  prospect  of  a  future  life,  it  Ihis  been  well  ob- 
served, would  so  far  deprive  this  stage  of  existence  of  all  value 
in  our  eyes,  that  we  should  rather  be  unfitted  for  its  duties 
than  better  prepared  to  meet  them.     God  does  not  thus  deal 


%. 


468  THE    PROOF    OF    REVELATION. 

willi  his  creatures.  If  an  eartlilj  sovereign  or  master,  indeed, 
should  issue  commands  to  his  servants,  lie  would  take  care  that 
their  meaning  should  be  obvious,  and  that  the  source  whence 
they  came  should  be  well  known,  so  that  obedience  would  be 
sure.  But  the  object  in  this  case,  as  Butler  well  observes,  is 
merely  to  have  the  thing  done^  as  such  a  master  does  not  troubki 
himself  about  the  motive  or  jprinciple  upon  which  it  is  done.  But 
113  rphVinn,  the  exfernal  act  if!  of  no  pnpnrtfi.nrp.  y^hfUf.Vr:,  while 
\  *^®  motive  for  doing  it,  or  the  frame  of  mind  in  which  it  is  per- 
formed, is  the . great  end  in  view.  The  improvement  of  fharao.- 
ter,  or  tlie  perfection  of  our  moral  nature,  affords  tlie  only  rea- 
son, jyhy:  a  revelation  should  be  made ;  and  in  reference  to  this 

I  end,  it  is  plain,  that  the  obedience  which  is  rendered  only  from 

5  awe,  fear,  or  selfishness,  is  no  obedience  at  all. 

Different  character  of  the  evidence  of  Christianity  at  different 
epochs.  —  "  The  first  Christians  had  higher  evidence  of  the  mir- 
acles wrought  in  attestation  of  Christianity  than  what  we  have 
now."  Of  course,  they  had;  they  had  the  evidence  of  their 
senses,  while  we  have  only  the  evidence  of  their  testimony. 
But  then,  they  were  without  that  strong  testimony  in  its  favor 
which  we  now  possess,  arising  from  its  conformity  with  our  pre- 
existing views  of  morality  and  the  light  of  nature.  It  was  a 
hard  thing  for  them  to  accept  the  evidences  of  a  spiritual  relig- 
ion, of  one  which  aimed  only  at  the  conversion  of  the  heart  and 
the  life,  instead  of  a  grand  ceremonial  law,  backed  by  earthly 
pomp  and  power.  The  Jews,  for  instance,  were  very  reluctant 
to  take  a  kingdom  in  heaven  in  exchange  for  that  kingdom 
upon  the  earth  which  they  had  expected  their  Messiah  to  estab- 
lish, together  with  the  temporal  rule  and  sovereignty  of  their 
own  nation  over  all  others.  The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  seemed 
to  them  to  contain  strange,  if  not  incredible,  doctrine ;  for  it  was 
at  variance  with  all  their  preconceived  opinions ;  Avhile,  to  the 
modern  skeptic,  it  appears  the  most  obvious  and  natural  doc- 
trine in  the  world.  It  is  all  self-evident,  he  says,  or  provable 
from  conscience  and  the  light  of  nature ;  there  is  no  need  of  a 
revelation  to  teach  us  that.  But  was  not  a  revelation  necessary 
to  teach  such  doctrine  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  ? 


THE   PROOF    OF   REVELATION.  46& 

The  first  converts  to  Christianity  had  the  evidence  of  their 
senses  as  to  the  reality  of  the  miracles,  while  we  have  only 
historical  testimony  of  their  occurrence.  We  do  not  expect  that 
a  revelation  would  reneiu  or  repeat  itself ^  through  a  continued 
series  of  miraculous  occurrences,  so  that  there  should  be  direct 
evidence  through  all  time  of  its  truthiiilness.  Such  an  arrange- 
ment would  defeat  its  own  end,  inasmuch  as  the  marvel  that  is 
constantly  repeated,  ceases  to  he  a  marvel,  and  the  miracle  which 
is  frequently  renewed,  becomes  to  our  eyes  a  law  of  nature,  or 
an  ordinary  event.  A  revelation  is  a  fact  in  the  history  of 
mankind,  just  as  much  as  the  rise  or  fall  of  an  empire,  or  the 
peopHng  of  a  newly  discovered  continent.  We  can  have  such 
proof  only  that  it  actually  took  place,  as  we  have  of  the  reality 
of  all  past  events.  There  is  a  record  of  it,  or  there  are  traces 
of  its  occurrence ;  and  we  form  an  opinion  of  the  genuineness 
and  authenticity  of  that  record,  we  seek  to  interpret  those  traces, 
according  to  the  ordinary  rules  by  which  we  investigate  histori- 
cal testimony.  We  do  not  expect  that  the  validity  of  such  tes- 
timony will  be  enhanced  in  the  eyes  of  each  successive  genera- 
tion by  a  fresh  interruption  of  the  ordinary  course  of  God's 
providence.  No  one  undertakes  to  impeach  all  history  ;  no  one 
pretends  that  we  can  be  certain  of  nothing  but  that  of  which  we 
have  direct  sensible  evidence.  If  it  were  so,  human  knowledge 
would  indeed  be  limited  to  a  span.  My  point  is,  that  the  his- 
tory of  a  revelation  is  to  be  judged  precisely  like  any  other 
history.  "  The  supernatural  reaches  us  in  Scripture,"  says 
Isaac  Taylor,  "  not  supernaturally,  but  precisely  in  the  same 
way  in  which  all  other  matters,  conveyed  by  document,  reach 
the  parties  interested."  Li  the  first  place,  we  have  to  consider 
the  intrinsic  credibility  of  the  events  narrated ;  and  in  the  next, 
to  weigh  the  positive  testimony  of  their  actual  occurrence. 

As  much  evidence  for  sacred,  as  for  profane  history,  and  more. 
—  If  the  principles  which  I  have  already  sought  to  establish 
are  w^ll  founded,  a  revelation  is  intrinsically  probable ;  the 
way  was  prepared  for  it  by  the  antecedent  dealings  of  God  with 
men ;  mankind  had  reason  to  expect  one.  We  come,  then, 
to  an  examination  of  the  external  testimony  in  relation  to  it, 

40 


470  THE   PROOF    OF   REVELATION. 

precisely  as  if  it  related  to  an  ordinary  fact  in  profane  history. 
Skepticism  seldom  assails  the  latter  to  much  purpose,  even 
when  it  records  events  that  were  contemporaneous  with  those 
mentioned  in  the  Gospels,  or  long  anterior  to  them.  We  ask, 
therefore,  what  principle  justifies  us  in  rejecting  the  truth  of  the 
Gosj^els,  regarded  merely  as  records  of  events,  which  will  not 
also  require  us  to  consider  the  annals  of  the  world  as  one  uni- 
versal blank,  down,  at  least,  to  the  reign  of  Tiberius  ?  If  we 
-will  not  believe  Matthew  and  Luke,  how  can  we  trust  Thucydi- 
des  and  Tacitus  ?  No  one  will  dare  to  say  that  these  historians 
show  more  of  honesty,  candor,  and  an  apparent  disposition  to 
tell  the  truth,  than  must  be  ascribed,  on  the  best  internal  evi- 
dence, to  the  four  Evangelists.  Then  why  is  the  narrative  of 
the  deeds  and  crucifixion  of  our  Saviour  unworthy  of  credit,  if 
the  story  of  the  exploits  and  the  assassination  of  Julius  Caesar 
be  not  also  fabulous  ?  The  Christian  may  fearlessly  invite  the 
comparison  of  external  testimony  that  is  here  indicated ;  he  may 
challenge  the  skeptic  to  separate,  if  he  can,  the  history  of  the 
origin  of  Christianity  from  that  of  the  destruction  of  the  Roman 
republic,  or  to  show  sufficient  difference  in  the  historical  evi- 
dence to  be  a  valid  reason  for  rejecting  the  one  and  accepting 
the  other.* 

Let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  the  relative  weight  of  proof  in 
the  two  cases,  confining  our  attention  to  a  few  centuries  imme* 


*  "  What  is  it  then,"  asks  Isaac  Taylor,  "  which  the  question  concern- 
ing the  truth  of  Christianity  supposes  to  be  doubtful ;  or  what  is  it  which 
can  be  regarded  as  open  to  argument  among  those  who  are  at  once  well 
informed  and  candid  1  Not  the  actual  existence  of  Christianity  as  a  visi- 
ble institution,  up  through  the  course  of  time,  from  the  present  age  to 
that  of  the  Julian  Caesars.  Nothing  within  the  range  of  history  —  nothing 
mathematically  demonstrated  —  is  more  certain  than  is  the  series  of  facts 
to  which  we  now  refer.  Thus  far  then,  we  presume,  there  can  be  no  con- 
troversy, or  none  amongst  educated  persons.  Let  church  history  be  what 
it  may  in  its  qualities,  assuredly  it  is  history  —  and  this,  close  up  to  the 
moment  of  its  alleged  origination.  The  testimony  of  the  Koman  historian 
to  this  effect,  is  by  none  called  in  question.  '  Auctor  nominis  ejus  Chris- 
tus,  qui,  Tiberio  imperante,  per  Procuratorem  Pentium  Pilatum,  supplicio 
affectus  erat.'  "  —  Taciti  Annates,  xv. 


THE   PROOF    OF   REVELATION.  471 

diatelj  preceding  and  following  the  commencement  of  the  Chris- 
tian era.  How  many  events  in  the  profane  history  of  this  period 
are  now  universally  admitted  on  the  testimony  of  a  single  his^ 
torian,  though  he  could  not  have  bee7i  an  eye-witness  of  a  thou- 
sandth part  of  them  ;  while,  in  the  case  of  the  Gospel  narrative, 
we  find  distinct  and  harmonious  records  by  four  individuals^ 
each  marked  by  striking  peculiarities  of  style  and  manner,  and 
agreeing  as  to  all  essential  points,  two  of  the  writers  appearing 
to  have  been  direct  observers  of  the  facts  which  they  narrate, 
and  the  writing  and  publication  of  the  testimony  of  all  four 
being  brought  by  irrefragable  evidence  w^ithin  a  few  years,  at 
the  utmost,  of  the  time  when  these  events  occurred !  Is  it  said, 
that  incidental  alliisions  in  the  contemporaneous  literature  of  the 
period  confirm  most  of  the  facts  mentioned  by  the  profane 
historians  ?  But  the  narratives  of  the  evangelists  have  also  a 
great  amount  of  collateral  testimony,  in  the  shape  of  numerous 
epistles,  written  at  the  same  period,  addressed  both  to  individuals 
and  to  large  societies,  making  frequent  allusions  to  these  facts, 
even  placing  particular  stress  uj)on  them,  and  betokening, 
throughout,  a  state  of  things  which  is  totally  inexplicable,  unless 
these  facts  did  really  occur. 

Momentous  consequences  of  tne  establishment  of  Christianity. 
—  But  it  may  be  urged  in  favor  of  profane  history,  that,  as  it 
relates  to  kings,  nations,  armies,  and  governments,  the  facts  re- 
corded in  it  were  of  universal  notoriety,  and  of  such  magnitude 
and  importance,  that  they  left  a  deep  imprint,  as  it  were,  on  the 
annals  of  the  world,  and  shaped  and  colored  all  subsequent 
events  in  the  records  of  nations,  so  that  to  question  their  reality 
would  be  an  act  of  silly  affectation.  Very  well ;  how  stands  it 
with  the  history  of  our  religion  in  this  particular  ?  The  estab- 
lishment of  Christianity,  viewed  merely  in  the  extent  and  mo- 
mentous character  of  its  external  results,  is  the  great  fact  in  the 
history  of  the  world,  and  from  the  time  of  Tiberius  to  the  pres- 
ent day,  this  history  is  an  inexplicable  enigma  without  it.  Let 
it  not  be  said,  that  the  world  is  still  far  behind  the  glorious  stage 
of  progress  which  the  establishment  of  our  religion  seemed  to 
promise  for  it,  if  that  religion  had  been  Divine.     Christianity 


472  THE    PROOF    OF    REVELATION. 

has  no  more  been  a  failure  than  the  primitive  creation  of  the 
race.  Sin,  indeed,  has  continued  to  stalk  the  earth,  and  human 
misery  to  track  its  footsteps,  ever  since  the  expulsion  from  Eden, 
and  even  since  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ.  But  if  we 
compare  pagan  Babylon,  and  Athens,  and  Rome,  in  their  im- 
perial magnificence  and  their  moral  squalor  and  wretchedness, 
with  the  present  condition  of  the  civilized  and  Christian  world, 
with  schools  in  every  hamlet,  with  institutions  of  beneficence  in 
every  city,  and  with  churches  on  a  thousand  hills,  and  still  more 
with  the  glorious  promise  of  the  future,  we  may  well  say  that 
the  founding  of  our  religion  —  viewed  not  only  in  the  purity 
of  its  doctrine  and  its  ethics,  but  in  the  compass  and  grandeur 
of  its  outward  consequences  —  is  a  work  as  worthy  of  Omnipo- 
tence as  the  first  establishment  of  man  upon  the  earth.  The 
religion  itself,  with  its  lessons  of  redemption  and  peace,  its  in- 
culcation of  love  to  God  and  man,  and  its  revelation  of  a  life 
beyond  the  grave,  is  worthy  of  "that  splendid  apparatus  of 
prophecy  and  miracles,"  by  which  it  was  heralded  and  accom- 
panied. 

Apparently  scanty  means  of  accomplishing  these  great  results. 
—  I  borrow  an  eloquent  illustration  from  Julius  Hare.  "  Let 
us  cast  our  thoughts  backward.  Of  all  the  works  of  all  the 
men  who  were  living  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  what  is  re- 
maining now  ?  One  man  was  then  lord  of  half  the  known 
earth.  In  power,  none  could  vie  with  him ;  in  the  wisdom  of 
this  world,  few.  He  had  sagacious  ministers  and  able  generals. 
Of  all  his  works,  of  all  theirs,  of  all  the  works  of  the  other 
princes  and  rulers  in  those  ages,  what  is  left  now  ?  Here  and 
there  a  name,  and  here  and  there  a  ruin.  Of  the  works  of 
those  who  wielded  a  mightier  weapon  than  the  sword,  —  a 
weapon  that  the  rust  cannot  eat  away  so  rapidly,  —  a  weapon 
drawn  from  the  armory  of  thought,  some  still  live  and  act,  and 
are  cherished  and  revered  by  the  learned.  The  range  of  their 
influence,  however,  is  narrow ;  it  is  confined  to  few,  and,  even 
in  them,  mostly  to  a  few  of  their  meditative,  not  of  their  active 
hours.  But  at  the  same  time,  there  issued  from  a  nation, 
among  the  most  despised  of  the  earth,  twelve  poor  men,  with 


THE    PROOF    OF    REVELATION.  473 

no  sword  in  their  hands,  scantily  suppHed  with  the  stores  of 
human  learning  or  thought.  They  went  forth  east,  and  west, 
and  north,  and  south,  into  all  quarters  of  the  world.  They  were 
reviled ;  they  were  spit  upon  ;  they  were  trampled  under  foot ; 
every  engine  of  torture,  every  mode  of  death,  was  employed  to 
crush  them.  And  where  is  their  work  now  ?  It  is  set  as  a 
diadem  on  the  brows  of  the  nations.  Their  voice  sounds  at  this 
day  in  all  parts  of  the  earth.  High  and  low  hear  it ;  kings  on 
their  thrones  bow  down  to  it ;  senates  acknowledge  it  as  their 
law ;  the  poor  and  afflicted  rejoice  in  it ;  and  as  it  has  triumphed 
over  all  those  powers  which  destroy  the  works  of  man,  —  as, 
instead  of  falling  before  them,  it  has  gone  on,  age  after  age,  in- 
creasing in  power  and  in  glory,  —  so  is  it  the  only  voice  which 
can  triumph  over  Death,  and  turn  the  King  of  Terrors  into  an 
angel  of  light." 

Specification  of  the  historical  evidence  of  Christianity.  —  We 
possess  in  great  completeness  the  history  of  the  early  diffusion 
of  the  Christian  faith,  and  can  show  the  marvellous  and  —  in 
all  but  one  view  —  unaccountable  rapidity  of  its  progress,  till  it 
became  established  and  coextensive  with  the  Roman  dominion. 
Within  the  lifetime  of  the  contemporaries  of  its  founder,  it  had 
become  extensively  known  throughout  the  fairest  and  most  civil- 
ized provinces  of  Rome.  Besides  the  incidental  evidence  of 
this  fact  derived  from  the  travels  and  writings  of  Paul  and  the 
other  Apostles,  we  have  the  distinct  testimony  of  two  of  the 
most  trustworthy  Roman  historians,  Pliny  and  Tacitus,  both 
belonging  to  the  first  century,  and  neither  of  them  being  a  con- 
vert to  the  new  faith,  that,  in  their  times,  men  called  Christians 
were  imprisoned  and  put  to  death  on  account  of  the  obstinacy 
with  which  they  adhered  to  their  religious  belief;  and  this  sect 
was  so  numerous,  that  the  former  writer,  in  his  capacity  of  gov- 
ernor of  a  great  province,  applied  to  the  emperor  himself  for 
advice  as  to  the  manner  in  which  they  should  be  treated.  Of 
course,  many  of  the  persons  thus  punished  had  j^robably  received 
the  facts  of  the  Gospel  history  directly  from  the  Apostles,  and 
it  is  not  unUkely  that  some  of  the  Apostles  themselves  were 
among  their  number.     In  the  next  'century,  the  new  religion 

40* 


474  THE    PROOF    OF    REVELATION. 

had  spread  so  widely,  that  the  acts  and  writings  of  its  adherents 
and  opposers  occupy  a  conspicuous  place  in  the  history  and 
literature  of  the  age.  But  little  more  than  three  hundred  years 
after  the  birth  of  its  founder,  the  first  Christian  emperor  swayed 
the  sceptre  over  most  of  the  civilized  world. 

How  closely  the  history  of  this  progress  of  the  Church  is 
connected  with  the  truth  of  the  personal  incidents  related  of  our 
Saviour,  appears  from  the  institution  of  the  Eucharist^  mention 
of  which  is  found  everywhere  in  the  annals  of  our  religion  ever 
since  its  birth.  We  have  a  vague  account  of  it  even  from 
Pliny,  —  such  as  we  suppose  might  come  by  rumor  to  the  ears 
of  a  haughty  Roman  magistrate.  Thus  a  slight  and  —  to  a 
mere  worldly  view  —  very  insignificant  event  in  the  life  of 
Christ,  his  supping  together  with  his  disciples  on  the  night  on 
which  he  was  betrayed,  may  claim  as  great  an  amount  of  evi- 
dence of  its  authenticity  as  can  be  awarded  to  any  event  in 
Greek  or  Roman  history.  The  fact,  that  a  few  poor  Jews  met 
together  one  night  at  table,  in  a  provincial  city,  more  than 
eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  appears  on  the  page  of  history  in  a 
broader  blaze  of  light  than  surrounds  any  one  incident  in  the 
life  of  an  emperor  of  the  Roman  world. 

Under  what  circumstances  a  system  of  mythology  is  created. ' — 
The  sufficiency  of  this  mass  of  evidence,  especially  when  com- 
pared with  the  historical  proofs  of  other  events  that  are  ad- 
mitted without  question,  will  be  more  apparent,  if  we  consider 
the  general  character  and  degree  of  civilization  of  the  period 
when  the  facts  to  which  it  relates  are  supposed  to  have  taken 
place.  Heroic  legends  and  fables  belong  only  to  the  infancy  of 
society.  A  system  of  mythology,  properly  so  called,  embodying 
the  religious  ideas  of  a  people,  can  be  created  only  in  the  faint 
morning  twilight  of  civilization,  and  many  centuries  must  elapse 
before  it  can  acquire  form  and  distinctness.  It  must  be  anterior 
even  to  the  art  of  writing  ;  for  its  only  source  is  in  the  imagina- 
tion of  bards  and  minstrels,  in  songs  and  ballads  preserved  only 
in  the  memory,  liable  to  frequent  changes  and  additions,  and 
sung  at  lofty  banquets,  or,  while  wandering  about  the  country, 
by  a  class  of  persons  devoted  to  this  profession  alone.     Men 


THE    PROOF    OF   REVELATION.  475 

are  exalted  into  heroes  and  demigods  only  when  there  is  not 
light  enough  to  see  their  true  proportions.  Hercules  and 
Theseus,  Numa  and  Egeria,  Odin  and  Thor,  are  proper  myth- 
ical personages,  gigantic  forms  seen  only  in  the  mist  of  igno- 
rance, fancy,  and  superstition,  when  the  songs  of  wandering 
bards  are  the  highest  intellectual  entertainment  of  a  barbarous 
people.  When  the  art  of  writing  is  invented  or  introduced,  this 
process  of  formation  ceases ;  written  copies  can  be  compared 
with  each  other,  and  the  additions  to  the  poem  or  legend  by  the 
ever-teeming  fancy  of  the  minstrels  are  detected  and  thrown 
out  as  spurious,  not  having  the  sacred  stamp  of  antiquity.  The 
formerly  fluid  elements  of  mythology  curdle  into  shape,  crystal- 
lize into  rigid  forms,  and  the  religion  of  the  people  becomes 
fixed,  though  their  poetry,  recognized  as  such,  may  continue  to 
advance.  Even  Homer  and  Hesiod  did  not  invent  their  theog- 
ony ;  the  work  in  great  measure  was  done  to  their  hands. 
Written  copies  of  their  poems  contributed  to  stay  the  progress 
of  invention  in  the  national  religion,  and  to  check  and  control 
the  imaginations  of  the  bards  who  came  after  them.  The 
mythology  of  the  Greeks  and  Scandinavians,  the  legendary  his- 
tory of  Rome  under  the  kings,  may  be  faintly  traced  back 
towards  their  poetical  birthplaces  by  the  light  of  the  traditions 
embodied  in  them ;  but  with  the  appearance  of  the  first  written 
record^  authentic  history  hegins. 

Character  of  the  age  in  which  Christianity  had  its  origin.  — 
But  when  did  the  Christian  religion  have  its  origin  ?  Just  at 
the  close  of  the  Augustan  age  of  Roman  literature,  when  the 
civilization  and  refinement  of  the  classic  ages,  in  fact,  had 
passed  their  culminating  point,  and  were  already  beginning  to 
decline.  The  fine  arts  had  begun  to  give  place  to  the  more 
useful ;  laborious  and  faithful  annalists  were  taking  the  place  of 
the  more  elegant,  but  perhaps  less  truthworthy,  historians ;  dili- 
gent observers  of  nature,  like  the  elder  Pliny,  critics,  like 
Quintilian,  ethical  philosophers  and  dramatic  poets  combined, 
like  Seneca,  writers  on  law,  antiquities,  husbandry,  military 
tactics  and  strategy,  showed  that  an  age  of  analytic  and  minute 
laboi  was  succeeding  to  one  of  inventive  genius  and  original  and 


476  THE   PROOF    OF    REVELATION. 

daring  speculation.  It  was  not  a  credulous,  hut  a  skeptical  pB- 
riod.  Law  had  become  a  complex  science,  and  its  practice  was 
a  distinct  and  honorable  profession.  Trials  were  held  and  facts 
investigated  by  shrewd  and  wary  advocates,  in  a  manner  not 
unlike  the  sharp  practice  of  our  modern  courts.  The  rude 
sounds  of  war  were  heard  only  on  the  distant  frontiers ;  for  the 
might  of  the  Roman  arms  had  long  been  peacefully  acknowl- 
edged in  the  provinces  and  tributary  kingdoms  near  the  great 
he^irt  of  the  empire.  The  arts,  luxuries,  and  refinement  of 
Rome  were  rapidly  diffused  in  Judea,  especially  by  the  influence 
of  Herod  the  Great,  and  were  mingled  with  the  indigenous  ele- 
ments of  civilization  and  learning.  The  priesthood  and  the 
scribes  were  bodies  of  learned  and  intelligent  men ;  the  luxu- 
rious and  skeptical  sect  of  the  Sadducees  alone  opposed  a  strong 
barrier  to  the  propagation  of  marvellous  and  unfounded  stories, 
or  the  rise  of  new  superstitions.  The  people  were  fanatically 
attached  to  their  ancient  faith,  were  instructed  from  infancy  in 
the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  and  looked  for  the  august  coming  of 
their  Messiah,  under  whom  the  renewed  splendors  of  a  theo- 
cratic government  should  far  surpass  the  majesty  even  of  hated 
Rome.  This  was  no  period,  Jerusalem  was  na  place,  for  the 
indention  of  a  new  scheme  of  religion,  founcted  upon  fable  and 
imposture,  —  upon  deceptions  that  must  have  been  practised,  if 
at  all,  before  the  eyes  of  acute  and  jealous  magistrates,  both 
Roman  and  Jewish,  and  of  watchful  and  hostile  religious  sects. 
In  reference,  then,  to  the  transmission  to  our  own  day  of  the 
doctrines  and  the  facts  of  the  Christian  Revelation,  in  its  purity 
and  completeness,  we  have  all  the  evidence  that  the  nature  of 
the  case  admits,  —  all  that  can  be  required  without  claiming  a 
continued  series  of  miraculous  occurrences,  which  would  enforce 
convicfion  only  by  stunning  the  intellect,  shaking  our  confidence 
in  the  laws  of  nature,  and  thereby  unfitting  us  for  the  duties  of 
this  life.  The  history  of  Christianity  cannot  be  impugned  with- 
out giving  up  the  credibility  of  all  history,  and  maintaining  that 
we  can  have  no  satisfactory  assurance  of  the  reaHty  of  any 
events  but  those  of  which  we  are  eye  or  ear  witnesses,  —  a  de- 
gree of  skepticism  so  monstrous,   that,   although   it  may  be 


THE   PROOF    OF   REVELATION.  477 

avowed  from  caprice,  it  cannot  be  entertained  as  a  sober  judg- 
ment, or  be  allowed  to  influence  our  conduct. 

Character  of  the  events  narrated  in  the  Gospels.  —  As  the 
mere  external  evidence,  then,  vastly  preponderates  in  favor  of 
the  sacred  record  when  compared  with  the  profane,  it  cannot  be 
rejected  for  an  assumed  deficiency  in  this  respect,  and  the  only 
reason  which  is  left  for  questioning  its  truthfulness  is  the  extra- 
ordinary character  of  the  events  narrated  in  it.  We  are  obliged^ 
to  accept  the  four  Gospels  as  faithful  records  of  what  actually 
occurred,  unless  we  are  prepared  to  maintain  this  proposition : 
—  that  a  narrative  of  miraculous  occurrences,  properly  so  called^ 
under  all  circumstances,  or  whatever  may  he  the  weight  of  testi-j 
mony  in  its  favor,  is  intrinsically  incredible.  This  is  the  posi- 
tion of  Hume,  and  it  is  one  which  every  skeptic  must  assume 
before  he  can  deny  the  truth  of  Christianity.  Hume's  cele- 
brated argument  is  intended  to  show,  7iot  that  a  miracle  in  itself 
is  impossible,  —  a  doctrine  which,  as  he  knew,  cannot  be  main- 
tained for  a  moment,*  — but  07ily  that  we  cannot  believe  in  one, 
that  an  account  or  record  of  a  miracle  is  essentially  incredible  ; 
and  on  this  point  the  believer  joins  issue  with  him. 

How  far  the  character  of  the  events  narrated  affects  the  credi- 
bility of  the  narrator.  —  Before  taking  up  the  general  subject, 
a  preliminary  remark  is  necessary  as  to  the  effect  which  ac- 
counts of  miraculous  events  —  even  supposing  that  these  are 
impossible  to  be  believed  —  should  have  on  the  general  credi- 


*  "  The  assertion  that  a  miracle  is  impossible,  and  consequently,  that 
such  a  miraculous  intervention  of  the  Deity  as  Christianity  supposes  is 
impossible,  must  rest  for  support  solely  on  the  doctrines,  that  there  is  no 
God ;  but  that  the  universe  has  been  formed  and  is  controlled  by  physical 
powers  essential  to  its  elementary  principles,  which,  always  remaining  the 
same,  must  always  produce  their  effects  uniformly  according  to  their  nec- 
essary laws  of  action.  This  being  so,  a  miracle,  which  would  be  a  change 
in  these  necessary  laws,  is,  of  course,  impossible. 

"But  when  we  refer  the  powers  operating  throughout  the  universe  to 
one  Being,  as  the  source  of  all  power,  and  ascribe  to  this  Being  intelli- 
gence, design,  and  benevolence,  that  is,  when  Ave  recognize  the  tiiith,  that 
there  is  a  God,  it  becomes  the  extravagance  of  presumptuous  folly  to  pre- 


:> 


478  THE    PROOF    OF    KEVELATJON. 

bility  of  the  narrator.  If  these  accounts  are  interspersed  in  a 
record  of  otlier  occurrences,  which  in  themselves  are  thoroughly- 
probable,  are  perfectly  consistent  with  each  other,  and  are  sup- 
ported to  a  reasonable  extent  by  collateral  testimony,  and  if  the 
reputation  of  the  narrator  for  veracity  in  all  other  respects  is 
free  from  stain,  then  we  affirm  that  his  reputation  is  not  de- 
stroyed by  these  accounts  ;  this  is  the  almost  unanimous  judg- 
ment of  historical  critics.  There  is  hardly  one  of  the  old  Greek 
and  Roman  historians  who  does  not  occasionally  introduce 
stories  which  are  wholly  incredible,  so  that  no  person  hesitates 
for  a  moment  in  rejectmg  them.  Yet  he  never  thinks  of  reject- 
ing the  whole  work  along  with  them ;  he  throws  out  the  part  of 
the  narrative  which  he  believes  to  be  fabulous,  and  retains  the 
rest ;  and  it  is  from  such  reservations  that  nearly  our  whole 
knowledge  of  ancient  history  is  derived. 

Eye  testimony  relates  only  to  the  outivard  events.  —  But  I  go 
much  further.  If  all  the  conditions  just  mentioned  are  fulfilled, 
and  if  the  account  of  the  miraculous  occurrence  is  by  an  eye- 
witness, his  narrative  of  this'  very  event  must  also  be  accepted, 
even  if  we  admit  that  miracles  are  inexplicable.  The  occur- 
rence is  complex,  embracing  several  facts.  The  witness  testi- 
fies only  to  the  outward  facts,  to  what  he  heard  and  saw ;  and 
these  facts  are  not  impossible.  The  miracle  consists  in  the  con- 
nection of  cause  and  effect  between  these  facts,  and  this  connec- 
tion is  not  a  matter  cognizahle  by  the  senses,  hut  is  an  inference 
of  the  understanding.     It  may  be  the  narrator's  inference,  — 

tend,  that  we  may  be  assured,  that  this  Being  can  or  will  act  in  no  other 
way  than  according  to  what  we  call  the  laws  of  nature  ;  that  he  has  no 
ability,  or  can  have  no  purpose,  to  manifest  himself  to  his  creatures  by  any 
display  of  his  power  and  goodness  which  they  have  not  before  witnessed, 
or  do  not  ordinarily  witness. 

"  The  assertion,  therefore,  that  a  miracle  is  impossible,  can  be  maintain- 
ed by  no  coherent  reasoning,  which  does  not  assume  for  its  basis,  that  all 
religion  is  false ;  that  its  fundamental  doctrine,  that  there  is  a  God,  is  im- 
true.  The  controversy  respecting  it  is  not  between  Christianity  and  athe- 
ism ;  it  is  between  religion  in  any  form  in  which  it  may  appear,  and  athe- 
ism." — •'Norton  on  the  Genuineness  of  the  Gospels,  vol.  i.  pp.  254,  255. 


THE   PROOF    OF   REVELATION.  479 

that  is,  he  may  declare  his  helief  in  the  miracle ;  but  this  hellef 
forms  no  proper  part  of  his  testimony  as  to  the  outward  facts, 
and  therefore  must  not  cause  the  rejection  of  that  testimony. 
The  inference  may  even  appear  to  all  reasonable  persons  to  be 
quite  irresistible ;  —  that  is,  they  cannot  see  how  such  events 
should  happen,  unless  they  were  related  to  each  other  as  cause 
and  effect ;  but  they  can  easily  beheve  that  the  mere  evejits 
themselves  did  happen. 

A  few  illustrations  may  make  this  doctrine  clearer.  If  you  tell 
me,  for  instance,  that  you  cannot  see  how  a  word,  uttered  even 
by  Divine  power,  should  open  the  eyes  of  the  blind,  perhaps  I 
may  agree  with  you  ;  but  if,  when  many  credible  persons  seri- 
ously declare,  that  a  man  blind  at  one  moment  had  good  use  of 
his  eyes  at  the  next,  and  that  they  were  present  at  the  time  and 
saw  the  change,  you  say  further,  that  you  will  not  believe  them, 
I  shall  have  no  great  respect  for  the  soundness  of  your  judg- 
ment. Take  another  case ;  it  is  perfectly  credible  that  a  vio- 
lent storm  at  sea  should  be  suddenly  followed  by  an  entire  calm, 
and  that  one  of  the  passengei's  on  board  a  ship  should  be  speak- 
ing just  at  the  time  when  the  wind  lulled.  If  one  of  the  otlier 
passengers,  a  sober  and  truthful  person,  seriously  informs  us 
that  this  actually  happened,  we  admit  the  possibility  of  it,  and 
believe  him  without  hesitation.  After  we  have  made  this  ad- 
mission, he  informs  us,  for  the  first  time,  that  the  words  spoken 
at  the  critical  moment  were  these ;  "  Peace  !  be  still."  Is  our 
knowledge  of  this  additional  particular  to  destroy  our  belief  of 
the  other  events,  which  we  have  just  declared  to  be  perfectly 
credible?  and  is  it  not  just  as  possible,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
that  the  passenger  should  have  uttered  these  words  as  any 
other  ? 

Inahility  to  explain  the  events  does  not  disprove  ths  fact  of 
their  occurrence.  —  My  point  is,  that  the  testimony  of  the  wit- 
nesses relates  only  to  the  outward  facts,  to  what  was  visible  or 
audible,  and  is  always  admitted  to  be  sufficient  when  it  satisfies 
the  ordinary  conditions  under  which  evidence  is  received  in  a 
court  of  justice,  or  in  investigating  points  of  history,  whatever 
may  be  the  inference  of  the  understanding  as  to  the  relation  of 


480  THE    PROOF    OF   REVELATION. 

cause  and  effect  which  subsists  between  these  facts.*  I  have 
somewhere  read  a  narrative,  attested  by  several  officers  of  the 
highest  respectabihty  in  the  British  army,  of  the  feats  accom- 


*  Upon  this  point,  it  is  well  to  cite  the  opinion  of  an  eminent  jurist, 
•rhe  following  is  an  extract  from  "  An  Examination  of  the  Testimony  of 
the  Four  Evangelists,  by  the  Eules  of  Evidence  administered  in  Courts  of 
Justice.  By  Simon  Greenleaf,  LL.  D.,  Royal  Professor  of  Law  in  Har- 
vard University,"  and  author  of  a  standard  work  on  "  The  Law  of  Evi- 
dence." 

"  In  almost  every  miracle  related  by  the  evangelists,  the  facts,  separately 
taken,  were  plain,  intelligible,  transpiring  in  public,  and  about  which  no 
person  of  ordinary  observation  would  be  likely  to  mistake.  Persons  blind 
or  crippled,  who  applied  to  Jesus  for  relief,  were  known  to  have  been 
crippled  or  blind  for  many  years ;  they  came  to  be  cui-ed ;  he  spake  to 
them ;  they  went  away  whole.  Lazarus  had  been  dead  and  buried  four 
days  ;  Jesus  called  him  to  come  forth  from  the  grave ;  he  immediately 
came  forth,  and  was  seen  alive  for  a  long  time  afterwards.  In  every  case 
of  healing,  the  previous  condition  of  the  sufferer  was  known  to  all ;  all 
saw  his  instantaneous  restoration ;  and  all  witnessed  the  act  of  Jesus  in 
touching  him,  and  heard  his  words.  All  these,  separately  considered, 
were  facts  plain  and  simple  in  their  nature,  easily  seen  and  fully  compre- 
hended by  persons  of  common  capacity  and  observation.  If  they  were 
separately  testified  to,  by  witnesses  of  ordinary  intelligence  and  integrity, 
in  any  court  of  justice,  the  jury  would  be  bound  to  believe  them ;  and  a 
verdict,  rendered  contrary  to  the  uncontradicted  testimony  of  credible  wit- 
nesses to  any  one  of  these  plain  facts,  separately  taken,  would  be  liable  to 
be  set  aside,  as  a  verdict  against  evidence.  If  one  credible  witness  testified 
to  the  fact,  that  Bartimeus  was  blind,  according  to  the  uniform  course  of 
administering  justice,  this  fact  would  be  taken  as  satisfactorily  proved.  So, 
'  also,  if  his  subsequent  restoration  to  sight  were  the  sole  fact  in  question, 
this  also  would  be  deemed  established,  by  the  like  evidence.  Nor  would 
the  rule  of  evidence  be  at  all  different,  if  the  fact  to  be  proved  were  the 
declaration  of  Jesus,  immediately  preceding  his  restoration  to  sight,  that 
his  faith  had  made  him  whole.  In  each  of  these  cases,  each  isolated  fact 
was  capable  of  being  accurately  observed  and  certainly  known ;  and  the 
evidence  demands  our  assent,  precisely  as  the  like  evidence  upon  any 
other  indifferent  subject.  The  connection  of  the  word  or  the  act  of  Jesus 
with  the  restoration  of  the  blind,  lame,  and  dead,  to  sight,  and  health,  and 
life,  as  cause  and  effect,  is  a  conclusion  which  our  reason  is  compelled  to 
admit,  fi'om  the  uniformity  of  their  concurrence,  in  such  a  multitude  of  in- 
stances, as  well  as  from  the  universal  conviction  of  all,  whether  friends  or 
foes,  who  beheld  the  miracles  which  he  wrought."  —  pp.  61,  62. 


THE    PROOF    OF   REVELATION.  481 

plished  by  a  band  of  jugglers  in  India.  One  of  the  company, 
much  muffled  up,  was  suspended  in  the  air,  a  few  feet  above  the 
ground,  seemingly  without  any  support  either  from  above  or 
beneath.  The  officers  were  allowed  to  pass  on  each  side  of  this 
person,  close  to  him,  and  to  cut  the  air  both  above  and  below 
him  with  their  swords,  so  as  to  satisfy  themselves  that  no  cord 
or  wire,  however  slender,  supported  the  weight.  Now  if  the 
witnesses  on  this  occasion,  highly  respectable  men,  should  ap- 
pear before  you  and  vouch  the  correctness  of  this  account  in 
every  particular,  there  is  not  one  among  you  who  would  be  in- 
clined to  reject  their  testimony,  and  to  set  down  the  whole  state- 
ment as  a  falsehood.  You  would  accept  the  whole  ;  you  would 
admit  the  facts  to  be  as  they  stated  them  ;  and  you  would  then 
exert  your  judgment  and  iftgenuity  in  order  to  determine, 
whether  the  law  of  gravitation  was  suspended  in  this  case  by  a 
miracle,  or  whether  some  combination  of  this  law  with  other 
principles  of  meclianics  would  allow  such  an  effect  to  be  pro- 
duced without  supposing  that  gravity  ceased  to  operate,  or 
whether  some  very  artful  deception  was  practised,  which  eluded 
the  watchfulness  of  the  spectators.  Whichever  of  these  con- 
clusions you  might  adopt,  it  would  be  an  inference  from  the 
^  facts  as  stated  to  you,  not  a  denial  of  those  facts,  nor  an  im- 
peachment of  the  veracity  of  the  witnesses.  Suppose  you  could 
not  rest  satisfactorily  in  either  of  these  conclusions  ;  —  that 
neither  your  mechanical  skill,  nor  your  acquaintance  with  the 
arts  and  shifts  of  jugglers,  would  enable  you  to  devise  any 
rational  explanation  of  the  phenomenon  ;  still,  you  would  believe 
in  that  pheno^ienon,  you  would  trust  the  veracity  of  those  who 
told  the  story.  Instances  of  this  sort  might  be  multiplied  in- 
definitely. I  cannot  tell  how  t^e  grass  grows ;  but  I  am  not 
therefore  to  conclude  that  it  does  not  grow. 

How  we  learn  that  a  miraxile  was  wrought.  —  So  it  will  be  in 
every  other  case.  In  one  instance,  the  facts,  the  external  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case,  considered  in  all  their  breadth  and 
variety,  may  lead  me  to  the  conclusion  that  a  miracle  was 
wrought ;  in  another,  I  infer  with  equal  positiveness  that  the 
event  was  a  mere  piece  of  jugglery.     You  may  attack  the 

41 


482  THE   PROOF    OF   REVELATION. 

soundness  of  my  judgment  in  either  case,  if  you  will ;  you  may 
say  that  my  conclusion  is  drawn  from  insufficient  premises ;  but 
this  is  not  impeaching  the  credit  of  the  witnesses  who  furnish 
the  accounts  on  which  both  my  reasoning  and  your  own  are 
founded.  Miracles  are  distinguished  from  jugglery,  by  the 
judgment  of  the  hearer,  not  by  the  credibility  of  the  witness  ; 
for  we  learn  from  the  witness  only  what  the  facts  were,  and 
then  put  our  own  interpretation  upon  them.  To  try  to  limit  the 
confidence  reposed  in  reputable  witnesses,  or  to  deny  the  credi- 
bility in  certain  cases  of  any  amount  of  testimony,  not  merely 
from  our  narrow  views  of  what  is  possible,  but  from  our  power 
of  devising  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  modus  operandi,  or 
of  showing  how  the  thing  was  done,  is  a  foolish  and  groundless 
assumption. 

I  believe  that  Jesus  "  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  Lazarus,  come 
forth  !  And  he  that  was  dead  came  forth,  bound  hand  and  foot 
with  grave-clothes ;  and  his  face  was  bound  about  with  a  nap- 
kin." It  is  for  you  to  decide,  in  view  of  all  the  circumstances 
of  the  case,  of  the  ch'kracter  and  doctrines  of  Jesus,  the  Hfe 
that  he  led,  the  men  that  he  had  about  him,  and  the  enemies 
who  were  watching  to  destroy  him,  whether  this  was  a  miracle 
or  a  piece  of  jugglery.  "Whichever  way  you  may  decide,  the 
fidelity  of  the  narrative,  the  truth  of  the  account,  remains  un- 
shaken ;  for  it  would  be  monstrous  to  say,  that  you  would  accept 
the  strangest,  the  most  marvellous  statements,  when  there  was 
even  a  suspicion  that  there  was  jugglery  in  the  case,  but  would 
reject  them,  if  the  attendant  circumstances  made  it  probable 
that  a  miracle  was  wrought.  Neither  Hume's  argument,  then, 
nor  any  other  argument,  disproves  the  authenticity  of  the  Gos- 
pels on  the  ground  of  the  marvellous  occurrences  that  are  re- 
corded in  them ;  at  the  utmost,  it  affects  only  our  interpretation 
of  these  facts,  or  the  doctrines  which  we  seek  to  establish  as  in- 
ferences from  them.  His  argument,  if  it  be  worth  any  thing,  is 
not  a  rule  of  evidence,  but  a  principle  of  interpretation. 

How  much  is  proved  from  the  evidence  now  adduced.  —  It  is 
important  to  mark  the  breadth  of  the  conclusion  at  which  we 
have  now  arrived.     The  truth  of  the  Gospel  narrative  being 


THE   PROOF    OF   REVELATION.  483 

tried  by  all  the  tests  which  are  applicable  to  the  history  of  past 
events,  and  being  found  to  answer  all  the  conditions  under  which 
we  admit  the  testimony  of  others  as  to  the  reality  of  occurrences 
which  we  have  not  ourselves  witnessed,  must  be  considered  as 
established.  The  facts  that  are  recorded  respecting  the  origin 
of  our  religion  the  inquirer  must  believe  ;  he  may  put  what  in- 
terpretation upon  them  he  chooses.  We  are  to  reason  upon 
these  facts,  therefore,  precisely  as  if  they  were  events  of  yester- 
day, which  had  taken  place  under  our  own  observation.  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  lived  and  taught,  as  is  related  ;  he  set  forth  the 
doctrines  and  the  claims  which  are  imputed  to  him.  At  his 
command,  the  blind  received  their  sight,  the  lame  walked,  the 
lepers  were  cleansed,  the  deaf  heard,  the  dead  were  raised  up, 
and  the  poor  had  the  Gospel  preached  to  them.  That  he  did 
these  works  was  the  answer  which  he  returned  to  John  in 
prison,  who  had  sent  to  him  to  inquire  whether  he  was  the 
promised  messenger  from  God.  He  appealed  to  these  works 
in  proof  of  his  special  commission  and  Divine  authority,  and  we 
are  to  decide,  as  John  did,  whether  this  proof  is  sufficient,  — 
whether  these  deeds  were  truly  miraculous ;  and,  if  so,  whether 
they  afford  sufficient  evidence  that  the  doctrines  which  Jesus 
taught  were  a  revelation  from  Heaven,  —  that  the  words  which 
he  spake  were  not  his,  but  his  Father's  who  sent  him. 

And  here  we  might  fairly  leave  the  subject,  having  carried 
the  inquiry  quite  as  far  as  the  legitimate  boundaries  of  the  hu- 
man understanding  will  permit.  There  is  a  blindness  of  the 
heart,  as  well  as  of  the  intellect ;  reasoning  may  cure  the  latter, 
but  it  will  have  no  more  effect  on  the  former  than  on  the  nether 
mill-stone.  Any  one  who  can  believe  that  the  writings  of  the 
four  Evangelists  constitute  a  faithful  and  true  history  in  all  their 
partSj  and  still  deny  the  Divine  origin  of  the  Christian  religion 
on  the  ground  of  mystical  speculations  and  metaphysical  sub- 
tilties,  labors  under  an  incurable  disease  in  his  moral  condition 
and  sympafliies,  and  is  beyond  the  reach  of  argument.  But  as 
waiving  the  discussion  of  miracles  in  the  abstract  might  seem 
like  an  implied  admission  that  there  was  an  insuperable  diffi- 
culty in  the  case,  and  this  might  affect  the  convictions  even  of 


484  THE    TROOF    OF    REVELATION. 

those  who  did  not  know  what  the  difficulty  was,  I  have  at^ 
tempted  to  prove  generally  in  this  work,  not  only  that  there  is 
no  valid  presumption  against  the  occurrence  of  miracles,  but, 
when  the  proper  conditions  are  fulfilled,  that  there  is  a  strong 
antecedent  probability  in  their  favor. 

Why  miracles  have  been  deemed  incredible.  —  Practically,  the 
objection  to  them  consists  altogether  in  a  shortsighted  reference 
to  the  assumed  invariability  of  the  laws  of  nature.  The  im- 
probability of  a  violation  of  law,  of  a  break  in  the  continuity 
of  events,  is  gauged  entirely  by  what  would  be  the  measure 
of  one's  own  surprise,  if,  on  the  speck  of  earth  which  he  calls 
his  home,  in  his  personal  experience,  which  is  but  a  dot  in 
the  history  of  the  universe,  there  should  suddenly  be  a  wholly 
arbitrary  and  purposeless  suspension  of  the  usual  sequence  of 
cause  and  effect,  —  if  the  sun  should  cease  to  warm,  the  fire  to 
burn  him,  or  the  water  to  slake  his  thirst,  —  if  he  should  lose 
his  eyesight  without  a  cause,  and  acquire  it  again  without  a 
remedy.  A  man's  sanity  would  very  properly  be  suspected, 
who  should  now  actually  look  for,  or  fear,  such  a  meaningless 
subversion  of  the  order  of  nature  and  Providence.  His  ejf- 
pectation  would  be  akin  to  the  folly  of  a  child,  who  hopes  that 
without  industry  or  thrift  some  lucky  accident  Tvdll  suddenly  make 
him  very  rich,  or  some  blind  chance  throw  down  the  huge  ob- 
stacle that  now  lies  between  him  and  the  accomplishment  of  his 
wishes.  But  the  silly  longings  of  that  child  are  hardly  less  phil- 
osophical than  the  narrow  self-conceit  of  the  man  who  errs  in 
the  opposite  extreme,  and  would  fain  weigh  the  great  epochs  in 
the  history  of  a  universe  in  the  narrow  scales  of  his  own  infini- 
tesimal experience.  Events  are  strange  or  marvellous,  not  in 
themselves  considered,  but  in  relation  to  the  means  by  which  they 
are  accomplished,  or  to  the  purpose  that  calls  them  forth.  If  men 
had  talked  a  century  ago  of  transporting  themselves  a  hundred 
miles  within  the  hour,  or  of  sending  a  message  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye  to  a  place  a  thousand  miles  off,  the  bystanders  would 
have  supposed  that  they  were  quoting  from  the  Arabian  Tales ; 
but  railroads  and  steam  have  accomplished  the  one,  and  the 
magnetic  telegraph  has  effected  the  other.     And  men  do  not 


THE    PROOF    OF    REVELATION.  485 

tstupidlj  sit  still  and  marvel  that  these  things  are  so.  The 
means  are  seen  to  he  proportioned  to  the  end ;  the  purpose  and 
the  want  have  created  or  founded  the  sufficient  power. 

Presumptions  in  favor  of  the  Christian  miracles.  —  In  case 
of  an  alleged  miracle,  it  is  the  part  of  reason  to  inquire,  first, 
whether  the  circumstances  are  such  as  to  render  it  probable 
that  the  Deity  would  interpose,  or  alter  the  usual  character  of 
his  dealings  with  men ;  and,  secondly,  whether  the  eflfect  to  be 
accomplished  by  it,  supposing  it  to  be  real,  would  be  commen- 
surate in  dignity  and  importance  with  the  means  employed. 
We  cannot  believe  that  the  usual  course  of  God's  providence 
would  be  changed,  except  for  some  grave  purpose,  or  on  some 
striking  emergency.  Hence  we  reject  almost  without  hesitation 
the  marvellous  stories  in  which  the  credulous  often  seek  an  ex- 
cuse for  their  superstition  ;  while,  on  occasions  of  so  vast  moment 
to  all  mankind  as  the  giving  of  the  law  at  Sinai,  or  the  resur- 
rection of  our  Lord,  to  confirm  the  waning  faith  of  his  disciples, 
a  miracle  seems  not  only  probable,  but  almost  natural.  It  is 
because  the  purposes  of  the  Almighty  are  unchangeable,  that 
we  believe  a  law  may  he  suspended  for  the  same  ohject  which  has 
hitherto  kept  it  in  operation,  —  namely,  the  moral  improvement 
and  guidance  of  mankind.  In  the  vast  extent  and  beneficial 
character  of  the  results  produced  by  the  Jewish  and  the  Chris- 
tian revelations  —  results  which  are  matter  of  unquestioned  his- 
tory or  immediate  experience  —  I  find  a  strong  presumption 
that  these  revelations  were  miraculous,  or  that  they  came  from 
God ;  and  in  the  usual  character  and  steadfast  purpose  of  the 
Divine  government,  as  it  appears  to  the  eye  of  reason  alone,  in 
watching  the  ordinary  current  of  this  world's  affairs,  I  find 
what  changes  this  presumption  almost  to  certainty,  even  before 
examining  the  direct  evidence  in  the  case.  Before  we  hear  the 
witnesses,  or  read  the  record,  we  have  stronger  reason  to  sus- 
pect that  there  must  have  been  miraculous  interposition  in 
founding  these  religions,  than  that  there  was  deception  in  the 
case,  to  which  I  have  alluded,  of  Indian  jugglery. 

Miracles  more  prohahle  after  the  creation  of  man  than  before, 
—  For  look  to  the  antecedent  history  of  this  earth,  as  it  is 

41* 


486  THE   PROOF    OF    REVELATION. 

chronicled  in  the  very  stones  upon  which  we  tread,  and  ask  if 
the  creation  of  a  reptile,  an  insect,  a  worm,  is  a  fit  occasion  for 
the  special  exercise  of  Almighty  power,  and  not  the  redemption 
of  all  mankind  from  sin  ?  Remember,  that,  upon  the  lowest 
theory  respecting  physical  causation,  the  institution,  the  first 
establishment,  of  a  new  race  or  species  of  beings  upon  the 
earth,  cannot  be  accounted  for  by  the  ordinary  operation  of  the 
laws  of  nature,  but  we  are  compelled  by  it  to  bring  in  the  action 
of  a  supernatural  cause.  Did  Omnipotence,  then,  become  weary 
only  after  God  had  created  man  in  his  own  image,  the  noblest 
of  his  creatures,  though  unintelligent  tribes  or  a  desert  earth 
through  countless  ages  had  been  visited  with  frequently  recur- 
ring tokens  of  oversight  and  protection,  of  a  care  which  never 
slept  ? 

What  the  human  race  would  have  been  without  Christianity.  — ■ 
Ask,  again,  as  a  means  of  estimating  the  benefits  produced  by 
these  assumed  miraculous  displays  of  infinite  goodness,  what  the 
situation  of  the  w^orld  would  probably  have  been,  if  neither  of 
them  had  been  made.  Suppose  that  the  law  had  not  been  given 
to  Moses,  and  that  grace  and  truth  had  not  come  by  Jesus 
Chris^  so  that  neither  the  Jewish  nor  the  Christian  religion 
could  be  counted  among  the  elements  which  affect  the  condition 
and  the  hopes  of  mankind.  How  different  would  be  the  aspect 
of  modern  civilization,  how  faint  the  light  afforded  by  human 
reason  alone  for  the  pursuit  of  truth,  and  how  feeble  the  motives 
for  urging  men  to  .the  practice  of  all  the  virtues  !  Imagine  the 
human  race  still  hesitating  between  skepticism  and  polytheism, 
the  doctrine  of  the  one  true  God  being  still,  as  it  was  in  the 
days  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  a  mere  speculation  of  the  philos- 
opher in  his  closet,  and  the  great  truth  of  a  future  existence 
and  an  endless  retribution  being,  as  it  was  then,  a  vague  dream, 
a  blank  hypothesis,  which  can  neither  be  proved  nor  disproved, 
like  the  supposition  that  the  other  planets  are  tenanted  by  ani- 
mated beings.  Suppose  that  an  oath  had  no  sanction,  that  the 
Sabbath  had  never  existed,  that  there  was  no  known  object  of 
prayer,  that  the  practice  of  morality  was  not  enforced  by  a 
Divine  command,  and  that  neither  the  hopes  of  the  innocent  nor 


THE    PROOF    OF    REVELATION.  487 

the  remorse  of  the  guilty  were  quickened  by  an  assured  belief 
that  the  justice  and  goodness  of  the  Deity  would  be  amply 
vindicated  beyond  the  grave.  We  are  accustomed,  perhaps,  to 
think  of  the  change  that  would  thus  be  produced  in  our  own 
feehngs ;  but  let  us  widen  the  prospect,  and  ask  how  the  lot  of 
the  whole  human  race  would  probably  be  affected,  and  what  the 
record  of  history  must  have  been,  if  these  appallmg  supposi- 
tions were  realized.  If  the  consequences  would  be  aflflicting  in 
the  highest  degree,  were  men  to  give  up  the  faith  which  they 
now  possess,  and  which  has  already  wrought  its  good  work  for 
eighteen  hundred  years,  what  would  they  have  been,  if  this 
faith  had  never  been  established  upon  the  earth  ?  Carry  this 
reflection  along  with  us,  and  we  cannot  hesitate  to  admit  that  a 
miracle  was  highly  probable  for  the  establishment  of  Christian- 
ity. We  shall  open  the  record  of  its  origin  with  a  full  expecta- 
tion of  finding  that  it  was  attended  by  signs  and  wonders,  such 
as  befitted  the  magnitude  of  the  occasion,  and  its  inestimable 
importance  to  the  human  family.  Having  vouchsafed  a  miracu- 
lous attestation  of  it  at  the  beginning,  we  can  beheve  that  the 
Deity  "  committed  its  future  progress  to  the  natural  means  of 
human  communication,  and  to  the  influence  of  those  causes  by 
which  human  conduct  and  human  affairs  are  governed." 


END. 


f(S 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 

12  >pro5BG 


W  ?Tarn/q 


MAR  29  196  S 


WBXTV  LC: 


JUN  9    1965 


AI/iy27  1968  3  9 


*.PR  9,  o  IP 


nr, 


RECEtVED   RV 


^PRgg  igi^^g 


JUACH 


M^y20-68jp^ 


i-OAN  tM^-^^r 


\  I 


0    |M-"*f^ 


:iRCULAriON  DEPT. 


^tefiSt^l^  JUL  1  »?#fflti^"^6 


'^W^'""'"!^!^*^' 


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^Wf^' 


LD9  3-90 


GENERAL  LIBRARY  -  U.C.  BERKELEY 


BDDDSM31ST 


